CRISIS: Equestria - Divergence
by GanonFLCL
First published

The Mane Six investigate a mysterious anomaly in the Everfree Forest and soon find themselves in a scary new world, where they have to depend on new friends to find their way home. Wait a minute... why does this sound familiar?
A mysterious portal appears in the Everfree Forest one afternoon, and Twilight Sparkle and her friends are sent to investigate. The portal transports them to another Equestria, one full of darkness and strife, where they struggle to survive while trying to make their way home, making new friends along the way and combating dangers as they go, all while under the watchful eye of a manipulative overlord who wants to use them for some nefarious purpose.
Hang on, that all sounds awfully familiar, doesn't it? That's the basic premise of the entire CRISIS-verse, right?
But something is different this time around, something which influences everything in ways you might not expect.
This story takes place as an alternate retelling of CRISIS: Equestria, but you do not need to be familiar with that story to enjoy this one. But for those familiar with the original, you might just get a kick out of the new situations you'll find your favorite characters in.
The events of CRISIS: A Royal Affair are still considered canon within this timeline, except for that story's epilogue. It is not required reading to enjoy this story.
This story takes place during Season Three, after Wonderbolts Academy but before Keep Calm and Flutter On.
Foreword by and edited/co-authored by Devnator. Cover art and character designs by Starlight Spark.
Updated weekly on Fridays.
Foreword
A mysterious portal opens up in the middle of the Everfree forest. Six familiar mares, charged by the Princess of the Sun, investigate the strange, frightening world that awaits just beyond that swirling vortex of power. You may have read about such a story before.
But what if a single decision, a single action, could create a butterfly effect that rippled throughout that story you once knew. An anomaly—a sense of déjà vu—yet, there is something altogether different about it all.
Once more we invite you to witness the world of Equestria-V through the eyes of characters you might be familiar with. Watch as they explore new avenues and make new discoveries all due to the effects created by one isolated incident.
For the faithful readers who have stuck with us through the past nine years, when CRISIS: Equestria first got its ambitious beginning, the opening chapters of this new tale might sing a familiar tune. But new notes are played throughout each of them, and the melody is not quite the same as you may remember it,
And for newer readers, we hope you will enjoy the ride.
Welcome to CRISIS: Divergence.
Chapter One: Commencement
To my most faithful student, Twilight Sparkle,
Surely by now you have begun to sense the strange magical force coming from the Everfree Forest. At first, I suspected it was nothing more than some of my more ambitious subjects practicing their spells in a place where they could do so without fear of harming others.
But now, the magical energies there are beginning to approach or possibly surpass even yours, my most treasured pupil. Further complicating things is the nature of the magic itself. It feels somewhat chaotic in nature but I am not completely sure, so I cannot precisely determine just how much of a threat it might be.
I must once again ask for a favor from you and your friends, the wielders of the Elements of Harmony, as I have done on many occasions in the past. I wish for you to travel into the Everfree and uncover the source of this strange anomaly at your earliest convenience.
If the Elements of Harmony are indeed required, inform me so that I may retrieve them from Canterlot Tower for you. If at all possible, I give you permission to do something about the situation even if the Elements are not necessary, but please do not put yourself in any undue danger. If you feel it is beyond your ability, just return home and contact me; I will handle the rest.
I have the utmost confidence in you, my faithful student.
Yours sincerely,
Princess Celestia
Twilight Sparkle hummed as she finished dictating the letter. "Well everypony, what do you think? Are you all up to the task?"
She stopped pacing back and forth on her rug and turned to her friends, who had all gathered together in her library to discuss the situation. Fluttershy and Rarity sat together to the side, whispering to each other in anxious tones; Rainbow Dash lounged lazily on the nearby sofa while Pinkie Pie bounced in place beside her; Applejack stood dutifully near Twilight, scratching her head and visibly pondering what to do about the letter.
Twilight felt an odd mix of anxiety and pride as she rolled the letter's contents around in her mind. Princess Celestia's tasks were always a joy to complete, but they were typically very straightforward and intuitive, or at the very least contained useful clues. This new task laid before Twilight and her friends was pretty much mud.
"I reckon if the Princess needs our help, it's our job to help, ain't it?" Applejack said, replacing her hat. "Y'know, as bearers o' the Elements o’ Harmony and whatnot? If this were somethin' anypony else could do, she wouldn't've asked us first."
"Well put, Applejack." Twilight walked over to the nearby bookshelf and pulled out the familiar copy of The Elements of Harmony: A Reference Guide, and immediately set to flipping through it. "Let's see, the Princess mentioned the magic feeling 'chaotic'. That sounds familiar. Hmm… chaotic… chaotic…"
Rarity jerked her head up sharply, causing Fluttershy to squeak in alarm. "Twilight, you don't think this has anything to do with Discord, do you?" she asked. "I'd really rather not go through all that again."
"You might be on the right track, Rarity," Twilight said, pulling her nose out of the book. "Still, I'm certain if the Princess knew that this was somehow related to Discord, she would've mentioned him specifically. It must be something else."
"How do you know for sure it's not, though? This really could be dopey ol' Discord trying to escape or something." Rainbow yawned and crossed her hooves behind her head. "Maybe he learned his lesson and this time he isn't blowing his cover with a bunch of cotton candy clouds and exploding corn and stuff."
"A possibility. Still, if it isn't Discord…" Twilight tapped her chin. "Changelings, maybe? No, this doesn't seem like the approach they'd take. King Sombra? No, it's unlikely he'd be interested in anything besides the Crystal Empire." She sighed, out of ideas. "Perhaps this is some new threat to the kingdom?"
Pinkie hopped over to Twilight's side and proceeded to bounce around in tight circles, accidentally shoving Applejack away in the process. "What are we arguing about what it is for?! This is a call to adventure! To excitement! Ooh ooh! Like the time when we had to go throw that cursed ring in a volcano! Or when we had to go looking for the seven pieces of the evil wizard's soul to destroy them! Or when the Princess asked us to find that Golden Fleece! Or—"
Twilight sighed and stuck a hoof out, causing Pinkie to run into it and stop moving. "Pinkie, I don't recall any of those things. At all. In fact, those sound entirely fictional."
Pinkie rubbed her nose, then instantly perked up again. "Oh. Well maybe I just read those stories and imagined that they were featuring us, but it sounds the same! Epic adventures, starring the greatest heroines in all Equestria! Doesn't that sound neat?"
"We're just going to investigate a strange magic disturbance, Pinkie, not embarking on some epic adventure," Twilight said. "It shouldn't take us more than a few hours to look into it, and it's all right next door in the Everfree Forest, not on the other side of the world or anything."
"Aw phooey." Pinkie pouted and swung her forelegs down in dejection. "I'll never get that Vorpal Sword."
"Riiight…" Twilight lifted her book back level with her nose. "Well, if it's not Discord, and it's not changelings or Sombra, who or what could it possibly be?"
"Anomalous magic with a chaotic nature, hmph. Is that all the information we have to work off of here, darling?" Rarity tapped her chin. "I should think that the Princess would have given you more information than this."
"All I know about it is what's in this letter," Twilight said. With a faint glow of her horn, she added, "And what little I can sense about it from this distance. I can't get a really solid feel of what it is, but I at least know where it is. We should get moving though. The longer it's there, the more likely it's going to cause some damage or attract attention."
"Do we really all need to go?" Fluttershy gulped and began to nervously inch towards the door. "I mean, it doesn't sound too dangerous, but, well, you know… if you don't need me I'll just—"
"The Princess mentioned the Elements of Harmony maybe being needed." Twilight gave Fluttershy a reassuring glance. "I wouldn't want to find out they are necessary and not have one of us there. You should at least come along to investigate, just in case."
"R-right. I guess if that's what you want…"
"Well then, let's get going!" Twilight stamped her hoof and grabbed her handy map of the Everfree Forest from the nearby desk. "This shouldn't be too hard, and if it looks like it is, we can just contact the Princess and everything'll be just fine. No problem at all."
*****
"This… might be a problem…" Twilight gulped. "Oh dear."
The giant circular vortex of energy encompassed the majority of a tiny clearing roughly a mile from Zecora's home. Rivers of prismatic magic streamed their way through an ethereal void. The deep expanse of black beyond was speckled with glowing white stars, all faintly twinkling in and out of existence. No matter what direction they looked at it from, they all saw the same thing:
Total chaos.
"This is bizarre," Twilight said. "I've never seen anything like this. I'm going to need to run some calculations to try and figure out exactly what it is I'm seeing here." She lit up her horn and set to work.
Pinkie pulled a camera out of her mane and snapped a few pictures, giggling between clicks. "Neat! I bet I can sell this to the National Equinerer! They dig juicy supernatural stuff like this!" She tilted her head and turned to the others. "Hey, is anypony else getting a weird sense of déjà vu? No? Just me?"
"It certainly is a most intriguing sight," Rarity cooed. "It's so… beautiful. Why, I'm getting all sorts of inspiration for some new outfits for when we get home! Hmm, though the colors will be dreadfully hard to manage. I wonder if—" She trailed off, muttering to herself.
"What in tarnation is this thing, though?" Applejack asked as she circled around the anomaly. "If y'all ask me, it looks kinda like a… window? What's all that weird stuff on the other side? Magic?"
"It doesn't look very inviting." Fluttershy gulped from behind the nearest boulder she could find. "All that stuff looks… scary."
"Good observation, Applejack: a window filled with magic. This brings to mind descriptions of strange phenomena I've read about before called 'portals'." Twilight frowned and dimmed her horn. "Whatever this portal is, it's definitely what's causing the magical disturbances. Rarity, I'm sure you can feel the magical radiation too?"
"Beg pardon? Oh! Yes, of course darling." Rarity skewed her eyes and nodded in understanding. "It's making my horn feel… tingly. Not really in a bad way, just… strange. Where do you think it leads? Just into that void there? Heavens, that doesn't look at all pleasant."
"I don't know where it goes exactly, but I'm not too eager to find out, either," Twilight said. "I'm going to close it off with a sealing spell. I can't really tell what kind of energy this thing is made of, but I think I can handle it by myself. Everypony should probably stand back, though."
Pinkie groaned. "Awww. Do you have to? I was thinking of setting up a booth and charging admission! 'Come see the mystery window into the WORRRLD OF TOMORROW!' Five bits to look, ten bits for pictures, twenty bits to stick your hoof in! And I'd have a banner and sign posts and a concession stand right over there and—"
"I doubt it's a portal into the future Pinks," Rainbow said, rolling her eyes. "That's science-fiction junk. This is magic. It's completely different stuff, right Twi?"
"Girls, please," Twilight said, as she channeled her magic through her horn. "I need to focus. One little errant calculation and I might break the portal instead of sealing it. I don't know how much damage that might cause to the surrounding area, or to us, but I'd rather not find out."
A soft purple glow formed on Twilight's horn as she concentrated. She clenched her teeth and hardened her expression as her magic took shape. After a few seconds of focus, a brilliant flash, followed by the blinding light of a sealing spell backed by all the magic Twilight could muster, shot from her horn. The shining bolt of magic struck the portal and engulfed it in a deep lavender glow. Slowly, the portal began to shrink.
"See? No problem at all," Twilight said, smiling and sticking her nose in the air. "It's all in the—"
The portal exploded outwards, destroying the seal in a blinding flash of purple and blue and knocking everypony to the ground.
Before, it bathed the clearing in a dull grey glow. Now, it brimmed with a prismatic sheen that coated the entire area in the full color spectrum. With startling speed, the anomaly steadily began devouring the surrounding area with a powerful pull that hadn't been there before. Everything it touched was yanked towards the portal's surface and into the void beyond. Dirt. Twigs. Boulders.
And, of course, ponies.
"Who-ho-hoooa!" Pinkie shouted as she, the closest, was sucked towards the portal. She tried to gallop out of the field, but the pull was too strong, and despite what was clearly her best effort she still inched towards it. "Ahhh! I don't want to see the future yet! Heeelp!"
"Hang on Pinks!" Rainbow charged forward and grabbed Pinkie's hooves. She beat her wings in an attempt to force herself backwards. For a moment, it worked. But, before she got much distance, the pull intensified, drawing the two hapless ponies in. "Uh oh, not good!"
"Hold on!" Applejack snagged Rainbow's tail in her mouth. "I gotcha, sugarcube, just hold on!"
Applejack dug her hooves into the ground as she tugged against the pull of the portal. Slowly but surely, the gap between Pinkie and the surface of the portal widened.
Rainbow sighed in relief. "Phew, thanks AJ."
The portal pulsed. Applejack's hooves cut grooves into the dirt as the portal's pull latched onto her as well.
Applejack tripped and lost her footing. "Aw, horseapples!"
"Rarity to the rescue! I've got you, darling!" Rarity grabbed Applejack's tail in her magic and started tugging.
"Oh my goodness, oh my goodness!" Fluttershy exclaimed as she attempted to help by grabbing Rarity's tail with her mouth. "Oh, I just knew this was a bad idea!"
"Girls! Hang on!" Twilight used her magic to grab Fluttershy, pulling her as hard as she could away from the portal's grip.
The ponies all breathed a sigh of relief as they slowly left the grip of the field. Twilight was thankfully far enough out of its pull to concentrate fully on her spell and getting her friends out, rather than worrying about herself getting sucked in.
Then, the portal quivered and absorbed Twilight's spell. Its pull doubled in strength.
Twilight's jaw fell. "Oh Celestia, you've got be kidding—"
The portal pulsed with light, and in the process, sucked Pinkie past its inner rim. "Oh noooo!" she yelped.
Rainbow was unable to keep her grip without the risk of getting pulled in too, but she loyally held firm to Pinkie. She gave a panicked shout as she too slid forward into the portal.
"Consarnit!" Applejack blurted once she joined them.
Rarity panicked. In a futile attempt to strengthen her grip, she wrapped her magic completely around Applejack, but that only seemed to fuel the portal's energy field. She followed Applejack into the portal against her will. "Oh my goodness!"
Fluttershy whimpered as she was pulled along by Rarity's tail and into the darkness. "Oh dear…"
Only Twilight's magic prevented the other mares from falling into the abyss beyond. The portal fed upon this energy, sucking it into the portal like thousands of fireflies drifting down on a breeze, adding to the splendor of the magical rivers below.
Twilight tugged as hard as she could, but her friends were too far into the field to get out without risking serious injury to her steadily depleting magical energy. She stood firm, and with a fierce pull that made her horn sputter and fire off errant sparks into the wind, Fluttershy's tail lifted back out of the portal's rim.
"Almost… there…"
Using all the magic she could muster, she heaved upwards, digging her hooves into the dirt and grass beneath her as her horn blazed with magic. More of Fluttershy appeared. A purple tail, followed by a panicked Rarity, emerged from the portal.
"Just a… little more…"
She locked her jaw, making it ache. There was Applejack! The pain in her horn was bordering on unbearable, and it was glowing with such intense fury and firing off so much rampant magic that she worried about a possible explosion. She could just see Rainbow's tail.
The portal pulsed once more.
"Oh, come on!"
Twilight could handle no more. With a weak flicker, the light of her horn died out. With a final, powerful pulse of energy, the portal ripped the six ponies down into the abyss. Aside from the magical fluctuations of the vortex, the clearing was silent.
*****
A turquoise pegasus with a sea green mane flew towards the Everfree Forest, cursing to herself the entire time. Her pace was brisk and erratic, as though she was fleeing a predator. She was exhausted and not able to fly as fast as she would like, her breath heavy as she swung her gaze around in a panic.
She chanced a glance to her rear after she cleared a small hill, then said to herself, "For cripe's sake, she's still followin' me! Of all the annoyin'—"
"Heeey! Wait up!" A wall-eyed gray pegasus trailed behind her in the air, saddled with a pair of drooping saddlebags and carrying a brown package in her hooves. "Come on, I've been trying to give you this package all day! Stop flying away!"
The mailmare had been at her tail the entire day, quite literally since she had got out of bed. That had been a rather disturbing experience. Ever since then the mailmare had been enough of a distraction that it was beginning to affect the non-mailmare more than just mentally. It had taken her a great deal of effort to get far enough ahead that the other mare couldn't barricade her path and attempt to get her to sign for a delivery that simply wasn't hers.
"It's not mine!" she shouted back. "Buzz off!"
"But Miss Rains—"
"It's not my package! It's not my package! I didn't order anythin' from the Muffin of the Month Club! It's not mine!"
"It's not?" The other mare blinked, one eye at a time. "Why didn't you say so before?"
"I did say so before! At least a hundred times, you frackin' featherbrain!"
"Heeey, that's not very nice! Fine! I won't give you your package then, if that's the way you want to act! Jerk!" the gray mare said, sticking out her tongue.
"It's not mine!" But the other pegasus was already fluttering off. "Cripes, frackin' mailponies. Fantastic, now I'm late, and… now I'm talkin' to myself. I hope that tear hasn't caused any damage…"
Summer Rains—for that was her name—came to the clearing where she detected the space/time distortion, and as she caught sight of the pulsing portal her mouth contorted into an incredible scowl.
"Oh great. Great. Somepony's been tamperin' with this tear, and now it's just gone all sorts of haywire. Doesn't anypony these days know how to just walk away from really strange fields of magic? Honestly!"
She pulled a plain-looking silver stopwatch out of her saddlebag, then carefully balanced it in both hooves as she sat on the ground. With a click on the top, the portal stopped churning, its magical energies frozen in place. She wound the watch counterclockwise, and the portal shrunk bit by bit with every turn until she got it down to a manageable size, safe from any errant gravitational forces.
Satisfied that the rift was safe to observe, she approached it, with her watch held between herself and the portal. The watch glowed a bright neon green, and instead of displaying a clock face on the front it displayed a set of wavelengths, numbers, and a tiny list of objects that had been drawn into the portal.
Summer was glad the list seemed small at first. Animals could sense Void magic pretty well and typically tried to avoid it, so it was usually only stationary objects that got caught up, or poor critters that happened to be in precisely the wrong place at the wrong time.
"Let's see, a bunch of random animals, some plants, a few rocks, yadda yadda yadda. Nothin' too—" Her face contorted in concern. "Aw geez, some ponies did get sucked in. Great, this day just keeps gettin' better and better." She sighed. "Well, not much I can do for them from this end. Better find out where they ended up…"
*****
Twilight and her friends screeched through the ethereal flow of the strange void they had fallen into, desperately seeking a way out and coming up short. The group found themselves drawn along by the currents of magic as they flowed upon them, not unlike being gathered together on a raft bounding down some white water rapids. Twilight discovered she could use her magic to steer them, but wasn't sure if they'd fall off the "river" if she tried to steer them out of it.
Considering that "off the river" meant "into a bleak, endless abyss", she didn't feel that it was worth testing that theory.
They managed to huddle close, clinging to one another in desperation. Wherever they ended up, she was confident that at the very least they'd end up there together.
"Hey guys, look up ahead!" Pinkie pointed further up the river. "Bet you've never seen a river do that!"
The others followed Pinkie's outstretched hoof and noticed that the river cascaded upwards then veered back into a loop that ended in a sharp downward spiral. Twilight was immediately reminded of the roller-coaster she and her friends went on during their visit to the new amusement park outside of Fillydelphia. She also remembered not being able to walk straight for nearly an hour afterwards.
Applejack gulped and gripped her hat tightly. "Aw horseapples."
"This won't end well, I can feel it." Rainbow clung tightly to Pinkie. "Normally loops would be no biggie, but normally I'm the one in control!"
"Hang on, everypony!" Twilight shouted.
Pinkie cheered and lifted her hooves in the air. "Yaaay! Everypony put your hooves up! It's so much more fun!"
They hit the bend and soared up and through the magical field. At the apex of the climb, they flipped backwards along the river, and they found themselves falling upside down at a breakneck speed through the rest of the flowing aether.
"Wheee!" cheered Pinkie.
"Aaahhh!" screamed the rest.
The magic careened off the side, slowing the riders down enough for them to collect their wits, and their lunch. Applejack seemed almost tempted to puke into her hat, but apparently decided against it and replaced it upon her head. Rarity was the most affected, turning slightly green and swaying to and fro.
Pinkie giggled and snorted into her hoof. "One more time! Let's go again! That was so much fun!"
"I think I'm going to be ill," Rarity mumbled, holding her stomach. "Yes, definitely going to be ill."
Fluttershy trembled in a terrified panic, clinging desperately to Twilight's legs, while Twilight in turn was holding onto Applejack for dear life. This would be no time to fall overboard and become separated.
As they bounded along the stream of magic, slower now than before, Twilight had an opportunity to look out alongside them, where she saw other "windows" zooming past. Each appeared to vent out into other locations, though most of them went by too quickly to make anything out; some sights looked familiar at a glance, but it was hard to tell.
One thing was for certain though: if she and her friends wanted to escape, they'd have to get into one of those windows. Twilight only hoped whichever one they picked led back home. Using her magic to latch onto another fork in the river's path, she and her friends found themselves flowing directly towards a tiny ripple in the distance, barely large enough for them to fit through and growing smaller as they got closer.
Wherever it leads, Twilight thought, it has to be better than here.
*****
The six mares dropped unceremoniously out of the aether and into a pile of garbage, in an opposite order to how they'd originally been drawn through; so, Twilight first, Pinkie last.
"Oof!"
"Eep!"
"Ah!"
"Ow!"
"Ugh!"
"Wheee! Let's do that again! Can we, can we? Huh huh huh?"
Above them, Twilight saw the portal slowly fade away until it disappeared with a faint hiss. They were stuck.
"Oh, my aching head." Twilight coughed as she warily got to her hooves and looked around herself for her friends. "Is everypony okay? Where are you, girls?"
"Over here!" Rarity called from nearby. "I'm alright, darling. I think I landed on something, though."
"Yeah, that'd be me," muttered Applejack. She shifted herself out from under Rarity, sending the unicorn sliding down the pile of trash to the concrete below.
They cleared themselves out of the garbage, Twilight being the last to get to solid ground. She peeled a damp, torn newspaper off of her flank, and glanced at the front page headline:
Smog Levels Reach Record High!
"'Smog'? Huh?"
Twilight blinked in confusion and flipped the paper over, searching for anything more informative, like the name of the publication or maybe a date, anything that could help pin down where they were. Finding nothing useful, she glanced upwards.
Her pupils shrunk in alarm. "Oh dear."
The others in the group collectively followed Twilight's gaze skyward, and their jaws dropped.
A dark haze filled the few parts of the sky that could be seen through the crisscross of clotheslines and metal railings. Buildings covered in strange, unrecognizable metal colored in dull shades of brown, gray, red, and black, reached for the light above, their tips disappearing into the smog. The bright glow of the city filtered in through the occasional gap in the skyscrapers, contrasting with the relative darkness of the alley.
"Pfh, see Dashie, told you it went to the future," Pinkie said. "This is just like that movie where the stallion drove a car really fast and— no wait, he ended up in the past. I mean, the sequel takes him to the future, but it doesn't look like this." She poked Rainbow's side. "Hey Dashie, which movie was it where the pony goes to the dystopian future? I'm thinking… something with a samurai?"
"The hay if I know. You're the movie buff around here, not me," Rainbow said. She shook her head in disgust. "I'm stickin' with my opinion, though. I still don't think this is the future, or at least not our future. I hope."
Fluttershy poked her head out from behind Rarity, who was busy shaking garbage out of her mane. "Where are we?"
"I don't suppose anypony has any theories?" Twilight asked, at a loss herself.
Pinkie raised a hoof into the air. "I know I asked this before, but is anypony else getting a sense of déjà vu?" she asked, turning to the others. Everypony shook their heads. "Just me again, huh? Wow, weird. Maybe it just reminds me of another story I read. Hmm…"
Twilight rolled her eyes. "Well, it's obvious where we're not at least."
"Kinda reminds me of Manehattan," Applejack said as she adjusted her hat, "just dirtier and a whole heck of a lot bigger. Even I'll admit this place needs a bit of sprucin' up. I couldn't imagine livin' around all this here junk."
Applejack swept her hoof around, emphasizing the grime and garbage that littered the alley surrounding them: broken bottles leaking oddly colored fluids; scraps of rusted metal; shards of old, discolored cement. The one remaining wheel of an old, tattered stroller squeaked as it spun haltingly in the foul smelling breeze.
Speaking of which.
"Oh my!" Rarity covered her nose and waved a hoof in front of her face. "It smells like somepony's been burning… something out here, too. Who burns garbage, really?"
Fluttershy shuddered and huddled in closer to Rarity and Applejack. "It's so… dirty. And dark. I don't like this new place."
"Aw, don't be silly! It's always fun to be in a new place!" Pinkie laughed and threw a big hug around Fluttershy, causing the pegasus to yelp in surprise. "Oh, just think of all the new ponies! Ooh, ooh, I bet I could throw a million new parties!"
Pinkie paused, dropping Fluttershy in the process.
"Oh gumdrops, I don't know where there's any party supply stores around here. Can we look for one of those? Ooh! And I'm starving! We need to find a sweet shop or an ice cream parlor or a bakery or something! I need three hundred cc's of chocolate and sugar, stat!"
"Pinkie, we've got more important things to worry about than if there's enough balloons for a party," Rainbow said. She dejectedly looked skyward again and shook her head. "Rarity's right though, this place is a dump. Look at all that dirty air. Don't they have any kind of weather patrol here? You can barely even see the sky!"
A murky orange hue, not like a sunrise or sunset but rather the more menacing glare of a raging fire, poked through the sparse breaks in the smog layer. It churned with an angry agenda, a stormy sea seething back and forth. Twilight couldn't help but wonder if the entire sky was ablaze.
Fluttershy sniffed and shuffled her hooves. "Oh, I hope the little birdies up there are okay…"
Rarity coughed and continued to wave her hoof in front of her nose. "Heavens, let's just get out of this dreadful little alleyway and into the streets, at the very least. Perhaps if we ask around, we can find out where we are?"
As they rounded the corner, they could see neon lights adorning large billboards, advertising goods and services they'd never heard of. Something called "Dolor" was prominent on most of them, with each billboard advertising a different color. The closest one had a slogan reading:
Introducing new Dolor Black! Great for a meal, or even a snack! It's hip, it's cool, it's not wack! Better than White, it's Dolor Black!
Down at the street level, a chaotic stream of ponies swarmed along the busy street. They kept themselves divided onto one side or the other, leaving a sizable portion in the center open, which Twilight found similar to how they left room for chariot taxis in Manehattan back home. A good hundred yards up above them, organized formations of pegasi flew along odd glowing lights, orderly avoiding each other despite their sheer number.
Twilight shook her head in disbelief. There were enough pegasi in the sky alone to rival even Cloudsdale's population, and enough ponies of all kinds on the ground to dwarf all of Ponyville. How many ponies lived in this city?
Twilight moved ahead, seeking out a pony that hopefully wouldn't be distracted too much by their own tasks. She found a dark blue pegasus mare that was taking the ground route, likely to avoid the heavy air traffic high above, wearing a bright green jacket.
Twilight cleared her throat and introduced herself. "Excuse me, but—"
"Yeah, what do you wa-aah!?" The pegasus leaped back in surprise mid-turn and nervously scooted away in obvious panic. "G-get away from me! Help! Police! Police!"
She flew off in a rush, leaving Twilight stunned and confused.
Rainbow came over and patted Twilight on the shoulder, while glaring upwards at the retreating pegasus. "Well what the hay was that about? Rude much?"
"Hmm." Twilight tapped a hoof to her chin. "Very peculiar. Was it something I said?"
"Ya didn't even get to say anythin', sugarcube," Applejack noted. She shifted her hat forward a little, narrowing her eyes. "I already don't like this place. Ain't got no sense for welcomin' visitors."
Rarity brushed a hoof through her mane. "Let's try another pony. Hmmm… aha!" She pointed her hoof across the busy street, where there was a large bench near a sign labeled Bus Stop. "There, that dashing unicorn."
Twilight made to start towards him, until Rarity coughed rather too loudly.
"Ahem. Perhaps we should let me do the talking?"
Twilight blinked. "Huh? Why?"
"You'll find that a little charm goes a long way. Leave it to Rarity, dear."
Rarity trotted over to the stallion, a reddish-black unicorn wearing a tuxedo vest and a matching tie. He was busy reading a newspaper as he waited at the "bus stop". Rarity fluffed her mane and tail, checked her coat, and brushed off any traces of dirt or grime she could find. Seemingly satisfied that she looked her very finest, she cleared her throat and introduced herself in a rather flirty tone..
"Pardon me, my good sir. So sorry to interrupt, but my friends and I seem to be in a bit of a bind." She gave her very best pout and fluttered her eyelashes. "Would you be so kind as to—"
"Ew, get away from me," the stallion said, scowling and shying away from her. "Have you no shame at all?"
"I beg your pardon?!" Rarity exclaimed. "Oh! Of all the ways to greet a lady! Well, I never! You should be… ashamed of yourself? Hello? Are you ignoring me now? Hmph!"
With a huff, she returned to the others, disgruntled and dejected.
"That stallion clearly has some grave vision issues," she snorted. "No manners amongst these ponies, none at all. You'd think someone dressed so dapper would be a little more courteous. Even— ugh. Even Prince Blueblood at least had the decency to act polite at first."
"Aw, don't get discouraged, sugarcube." Applejack patted Rarity on the shoulder. "Maybe the stallions 'round these parts just ain't affected by that patented Rarity charm?"
"Yeah, maybe you're just not his type?" Rainbow offered.
Pinkie bounced up and down excitedly, pushing the three out of her way to address Twilight. "Ooh! Can I try next? Huh? Can I? Oh please oh please?"
"I don't know Pinkie," Twilight said, hesitating. "I mean, Rarity and I couldn't get any answers, what makes—"
Pinkie held her hooves together in a pleading gesture, sank to her knees, and forced her eyes to widen and fill with tears.
Twilight stared for just a minute, her mouth curling into a nervous smile. She balked. "Fine."
Pinkie immediately leapt back to her hooves. "Yaaay! You'll see, I'll get some answers! Sherlock Pie is on the case!"
She scoured the nearby crowd, then snapped her hoof towards an off-white earth pony with a curly orange mane wearing a simple blue blouse.
"Aha! My first suspect!"
The pony in question was focused on fumbling with something in one of her saddlebags, so she didn't notice Pinkie's approach.
"Hi!" Pinkie had somehow made the statement from the interior of a nearby ponyhole cover; Twilight hadn't even seen her climb into it.
"Ahh!" The other pony jumped, not seeing where the source of the voice came from. "Who's there?!"
"Hey now, no need to get all jittery. I just wanna ask you some questions," Pinkie said from the far side of a nearby lamppost. A lamppost that happened to be no more than six inches thick and yet somehow still hid Pinkie from view.
The other mare nervously twirled in a circle, trying to find the source of the voice. "Show yourself!"
Pinkie's head popped out from inside of a covered trash can. "I just want to know where we are!"
The profoundly disturbed mare curled up into a tight ball, her eyes darting around in panic as she stroked her tail with a hoof. "Oh no, this is just like that one dream! Make it stop…"
"You're not being very helpful, y'know?" Pinkie whispered into the white pony's ear, leaning in from out of one of her saddlebags.
"Aaahh!"
The mare rocketed into the air and down the street in a cloud of dust, leaving Pinkie to tumble around in the air before landing in a heap on the ground.
"Pinkie, how was that supposed to help?" Rainbow asked as Pinkie bounded back over with a pleased grin on her face. "You scared that pony half to death!"
"Aww, no way Dashie. I can't scare anypony! Scaring isn't my thing. She was just surprised, that's all!" Pinkie shrugged. "It's okay, she probably wouldn't have helped either. But hey, at least I found out I'm still me, no matter where we are."
"Pinks, you are so weird sometimes," Rainbow sighed, gently patting Pinkie's shoulder.
The group continued their fruitless trek through the city streets. Every so often, they would try to ask any passing strangers, but they were always greeted with one the same three reactions: a scream followed by a mad dash in the opposite direction, a cold shoulder, or perhaps worst of all, absolutely nothing. Eventually, even these three responses died down and were replaced by a new and slightly unsettling response: open staring.
Now that they were in a much busier part of the street, it was becoming difficult for the group to not be the center of attention. Ponies with young colts or fillies present shielded their children's eyes. A few odd ponies ran away from the offending mares. Others pointed in earnest and either muttered amongst themselves or chuckled at the sight.
The six mares of Ponyville shrunk a little under the judging gazes of everypony in their immediate vicinity.
"Does anypony else feel as if, well, everypony else is watching us?" Twilight asked.
"Why're they all starin' at us?" Applejack whispered back. "We don't look that outta place, do we?"
"It's giving me the creeps though, that's for sure," said Rainbow. She sneered in the direction of a pair of large earth pony stallions that were pointing in their direction with wide smiles on their faces. "I don't trust these ponies. Something's up."
Rarity huffed at a random catcall from nearby, and shot a sharp glare in the sound's direction. She defensively moved herself in front of Fluttershy, obviously to protect the pegasus from the gazes of as many ponies as she could. "For once, I'm with Rainbow Dash. There's something rather unscrupulous going on here. I'm used to attracting a lot of attention, but this is ridiculous!"
Twilight shook her head. "I don't know, but I— oof!"
As Twilight rounded the nearby corner, she slammed into another mare that had been doing the same thing going the opposite way.
"Owww…" Twilight groaned.
"Twilight! You okay?" Applejack rushed over to Twilight and immediately began helping her up.
"Yeah, I'm fine," Twilight said. "Thanks."
"Crikey! Watch where you're walkin'!" said the other mare.
She was a short—so short Twilight almost thought she was a tall filly—icy blue unicorn with a snow white mane and dark blue eyes. She wore a magenta turtleneck over her upper torso, leaving her cutie mark—a crystal made of ice—fully exposed. She also wore a matching scarf that was rather long and wrapped around her neck several times, as well as a matching beret.
The other mare gasped, and hurriedly picked up from the ground a stopwatch that had been knocked aside when she'd bumped into Twilight. She carefully scrutinized it for damage, and after a brief moment of examination, she breathed a sigh of relief.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," Twilight said. "We're all in an awful hurry. Oh! Maybe you can help—"
The other mare snorted and brusquely swept right past Twilight and her friends. "Out of the way! I don't have time to be buggerin' about with a bunch of bloody nudists. I'm late!"
"Sheesh." Rainbow sneered in the departing mare's direction. "Somepony's got their tail in a knot."
"You okay there, Twi?" Applejack asked. "Ya look like ya done seen a ghost."
Twilight's eyes shot open in realization. That mare had just called them something. It was a word she hadn't heard used before in normal conversation, but she did know its definition.
Nudists.
"Oh dear," she muttered.
As she looked around at the crowd of ponies surrounding them, she realized something she hadn't really taken notice of before: all of the ponies were wearing clothes, every last one of them. Except, of course, for her and her friends. That sort of thing wouldn't normally bother her—they didn't wear clothes at home all that often, usually just for special occasions—but clearly there was some sort of taboo on nudity here, and that made her horribly self-conscious.
She couldn't help but notice that some ponies here and there were tilting their heads and adjusting their positions and postures to perhaps catch a glimpse of something she'd rather keep private; that itself was odd since most ponies were just wearing shirts or jackets, so wouldn't those bits of anatomy be visible anyway? What was it about wearing a shirt that made a difference?
Twilight's face turned a bright pink as she nervously shifted in place. "Girls, perhaps we should try and find someplace a little less public to discuss our situation?"
"Whatever for, darling?" Rarity asked. "I know these ponies so far have been rather rude, but—"
Twilight hurriedly whispered her discovery to the others.
Rarity's face turned a brighter pink than Twilight's, and she frantically began to look about for something to cover herself. "Good heavens! Scandalous!" She grabbed a nearby newspaper with her magic and hastily set about trying to mold it into something wearable.
"What're we gonna do, Twi?" Applejack asked. She removed her hat and started trying to use it to cover up what she could.
Twilight gulped. "I don't know. C'mon, before we get into any… trouble…"
Her worry turned to panic as a siren roared to life off in the distance. It was close enough to a fire alarm that she knew it meant trouble, but given the reactions they'd been getting she had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn't firefighters coming this way.
Rainbow seemed to have the same thoughts. "Aw man, beat it! It's the fuzz!" She grabbed Pinkie and tried to fly off, but was caught by Twilight's magic.
"Hold on, Rainbow," Twilight said. "Running away isn't going to help us any, and splitting up would be a bad idea."
Within moments, the six mares found themselves surrounded by police ponies—pegasi, unicorns, and earth ponies alike—all dressed in neat black uniforms and sporting bright gold badges.
Fluttershy crowded herself into the center of her group of friends. "Oh dear…"
"Halt! New Pandemonium City Police! You are under arrest!" called one unicorn, a white stallion, who was levitating a megaphone in front of him.
With a flashy wave of a hoof he signalled to a few of the other officers to move in. The six Ponyville mares were soon surrounded by a few earth ponies menacingly wielding their batons with their mouths, and a pair of unicorns that levitated what appeared to be hoofcuffs.
Twilight sighed and stepped forward, offering her hooves in surrender.
"Twi, I sure hope y'all got some idea what you're doin'," Applejack murmured as she followed suit.
"We should just cooperate," Twilight said, turning to her friends. "I wouldn't want this to get disagreeable. Besides, they're authority figures here. Police? They can help us." She gulped. "Right?"
Chapter Two: Criminal
Police Chief Smokestack grumbled as another pile of papers plopped down onto the podium in front of him. He stared at it as if it were an unwholesome pest, his expression not unlike a disgruntled bulldog. With a sharp grunt, he shooed away the clerk that had delivered the annoyance.
After a moment of deep consideration and puff of his cigar, Smokestack resigned himself to his loathsome task. He removed his cap with his magic and ran a kerchief across his brow. This case load was heavier than usual, and considering the leaflets hanging out the sides, it was a great deal messier too.
Smokestack lazily ran a comb through his mane and replaced his cap as he took a brief look throughout the empty courtroom, which lacked many of the proper necessities of a courtroom: there were no chamber seats for the public or interested parties; there wasn't a jury box; instead of two tables meant for the attorneys and parties of the defense and prosecution, there was just one long table meant to hold all of the accused in the case.
He still had a bailiff—a strapping, cherry red earth pony stallion with a short, golden blond mane—that stood just below the podium that he himself sat behind. The well-built bailiff looked very imposing compared to Smokestack, who was rather chubby and out of shape. His cutie mark, a pair of hoofcuffs, only added to the image of a stern, hard-working pony; Smokestack's mark, a lit cigar, did not inspire the same.
At least this won't take too long, even if it is a rather large casefile, he thought to himself.
In New Pandemonium City, the police upheld the law, carried out the law, served as both judge and jury, and even provided attorneys—on request—that worked for the police department and had an obvious bias. It made things quicker and easier for all parties involved. The accused would come in, he'd charge them, question them, deliver them a verdict, and finally sentence them.
They'd be done in time for lunch.
He took another puff from his cigar and gestured to the bailiff. The bailiff nodded, adjusted his own cap, straightened his uniform, then signaled to the other officer standing near the door. This one opened the door and signaled to another pony outside, then held the door open as three other police ponies led in a group of six mares they'd arrested only an hour before.
All six mares were wearing gaudy bright orange jumpsuits, typical for all ponies arrested while they awaited their speedy trials. Smokestack noticed that the white unicorn in particular did not look pleased with the outfit, but honestly, none of them looked all that content to be in this situation.
The other officers all left the room so that the only ponies left were the six jumpsuit-clad mares, Smokestack, and his bailiff, the latter of which remained at firm attention just below the chief's podium.
"Right then. Let's get started, shall we?" Smokestack lifted the stack of papers and began to read:
"Case File dated the twenty-eighth of the winter quarter, year three thousand and fifty-nine. Case File labeled: The Ponies of New Pandemonium City versus…" He squinted at the paper in front of him. "Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Rarity, Rainbow Danger Dash, Fluttershy, and Pinkamena Diane Pie. The Honorable Judge, New Pandemonium City Police Chief Smokestack—which would be me—now presiding. How do you plead?"
"We don't even know what the charges are!" the one called Twilight said. "We were just walking about minding our own business, and nopony explained anything… Your Honor. We don't even know what we did wrong."
Smokestack raised an eyebrow and hummed thoughtfully to himself. He wasn't used to accused parties actually taking the time to ask any questions. He was supposed to be asking questions. They did usually plead "not guilty" right away, though, so this was new.
He shrugged and shuffled through the papers again to get to another page. "Hmph, I suppose we'll go through these one at a time. I can't wait to hear these excuses." He breathed a weary sigh. "I hear that some of the patrol officers are making a game of the most creative ones. Isn't that right, Flathoof?"
The bailiff—Flathoof—continued to stand at attention and simply shook his head. "Wouldn't know, Chief. Haven't been on the beat since you made me Captain."
"Yes, yes, that's right," Smokestack mumbled. He put his hoof under his chin and rested his elbow on the podium. "I suppose that even if you were, you wouldn't have been invited to participate, you ol' stick in the mud. Well anyway, let's hear these excuses.
"Okay ladies, we'll start at the beginning." He read from the papers again. "First charge: Public Indecency. That is, wandering around city limits without proper attire as stipulated within New Pandemonium City bylaws. The orange one, Applejack?"
He glanced over at the so-called Applejack, causing her to gulp.
"Her charge on that count is reduced by half because she was at least wearing a hat."
The white unicorn, Rarity, groaned.
"Second charge," Smokestack continued. "Disturbing the Peace, as a byproduct of your public indecency. The station got enough phone calls in the fifteen minutes leading to your arrest that I swore we were running some kind of telemarketing service in here."
He glanced over at one called Pinkamena. "One call in particular was from a mare that said she had been psychologically harassed by a pink earth pony mare." Then, he glanced at Rarity. "And another from a stallion claiming to have been propositioned by a particularly bold prostitute, a white unicorn mare."
Rarity slapped the pastern of her hoof to her forehead and fainted; the one called Fluttershy barely caught her before she hit the floor.
"Third charge: Failure to Provide Identification. You were not carrying any form of identification on yourselves at the time of arrest, nor could you attest to the whereabouts of your identification." He then shuffled the papers all back together in order. "Those are the charges against you six. So, how do you plead?"
Twilight looked around to her friends and shrugged. "Uh… guilty? We didn't know we needed any of those things, Your Honor. So… I guess we don't really have a good argument in our defense. But we certainly didn't mean to disturb anypony."
The one called Rainbow rolled her eyes and groaned. "Geez Twilight, just confess to everything why don't ya?"
"Well, what would you like me to do, Rainbow?" Twilight asked. "He presented the charges, and we did do all those things, intentionally or not, and we have to abide by their laws."
Smokestack smiled and shuffled his papers back into order. He took another long draw from his cigar, and blew a ring of smoke off into the air. "Excellent. At least we have an understanding. My officers don't just arrest random folks off the street, you see. Now, if you'd be so kind as to explain why you say you didn't know you needed identification?"
Rainbow sauntered over to Twilight and said, "Let me do the talking, Twi. You gotta keep all your answers short and sweet."
"Rainbow, I know how to handle this. I did study law."
"Well?" Smokestack asked.
"We're not from around here," Rainbow said.
"Actually—" Twilight started, lifting her hoof.
Rainbow slapped Twilight's hoof away. "Next question, please."
"Now now, let's hear what your friend has to say," Smokestack said. He took another puff of his cigar and leaned back in his seat, putting his rear hooves up on the podium.
Twilight briefly shot an indignant look at Rainbow, then turned back to Smokestack and explained. "Actually, we're from a town called Ponyville."
Smokestack and Flathoof both gave each other confused looks.
"'Ponyville'?" Smokestack asked, sitting back upright. "You're pulling my leg, right? What an utterly ridiculous name for a town. Let me guess, ponies live there?" He turned to his bailiff. "Flathoof, have you ever heard of a place called Ponyville before?"
Flathoof shook his head. "Nnnope. That's a first, Chief. It might be someplace in Utopia though, sir. I'm not too knowledgeable about their town names down there."
"And what leads you to think that?" Smokestack asked, resting his chin on his hoof and elbow again.
"They were arrested only two blocks from the NPRD building, sir," Flathoof explained, giving the six ponies a quick glance. "Seems to me they made the mistake of forgetting to register before they came into the city."
"Yeah, that's it," Rainbow said. "We're from Ponyville, Utopia. Wanted to register, but we got lost. Big city, y'know?"
Smokestack furrowed his brow. "Convenient excuse, almost believable. Flathoof, you think their story has merit?"
"I see no reason to doubt them, sir," Flathoof replied. "They didn't cause any property damage or harm anypony, so I don't think they're dangerous."
"A fair point…"
"Plus, this is the first time I've ever heard 'we're not from around here' as an excuse for missing identification. It's usually 'it's at my friend's apartment' or 'it's in my other jacket' or some other old excuse. So I figure either these mares are either very, very clever, or they're telling the truth."
"And considering they got caught wandering naked through the streets I highly doubt the former." Smokestack stroked his mustache and rapidly puffed his cigar. "Very well. I'll trust your judgment on this, Flathoof."
Smokestack returned his gaze to the mares. "That explains why you weren't carrying identification." He shuffled his papers around and stamped a part of one of them. "I'll modify the charges to reflect your status as undocumented residents. Now, care to explain why you were wandering around naked though?"
Rainbow shrugged. "Same thing. We're not from around here."
"Actually—" Twilight said. Rainbow hung her head, exasperated. "Where we're from, we don't usually wear clothes outside of special occasions, so truth be told it came as a rather uncomfortable surprise to learn that we were supposed to be."
Smokestack raised an eyebrow, then leaned over and whispered to Flathoof, "Is Utopia going hedonist nowadays? If it is, the beaches might have just gotten more fun."
Flathoof coughed uncomfortably and shook his head. "Wouldn't know sir. Never been myself, obviously. I'll admit I'm not accustomed with Utopia's standards or taboos."
Smokestack took another long draw from his cigar, then grunted and put it out in the ashtray on his podium. "Hmph. That certainly would explain things." He turned to the mares again. "So, you're southern natives, which means that we have to acknowledge our cultural differences regarding clothing at first, but you're still expected to procure some after the trial.
"However! There is still the fact that your antics, however justifiable they may be under the law, did indeed disturb the peace around you and caused widespread havoc. Don't have a fancy excuse to get yourselves out of that one, do you?"
Rainbow stared forward and crossed her hooves over her chest, wide-eyed with confidence. "Yeah we done it! What of it?!"
"Rainbow!" Twilight exclaimed.
Smokestack casually pulled another cigar out of his uniform pocket, lit it, and took a long draw. He blew out another smoke ring and chuckled. "Well, I'm glad we've gotten that all cleared up. So, you're all guilty of one count each for Disturbing the Peace, with minimum charges for Public Indecency and Failure to Provide Identification. Verdict has been delivered. Let it be noted, Flathoof."
Flathoof stared at Smokestack and shrugged; he wasn't carrying any sort of notepad. "Okay, sir. Noted."
"Under the circumstances, you six have two options," Smokestack explained. He lifted up his left hoof. "Either we toss you in jail and let the system weed you out, or—" He lifted his right hoof. "You can get yourselves documented and be released on parole. You should all be so lucky that Flathoof is taking your side. He's not an easy one to convince."
"You'd release us? Just like that?" Twilight asked.
Rainbow nudged Twilight hard in the ribs.
"Ow! Rainbow—"
"Geez, Twi, shut up, before he changes his mind!"
Smokestack grinned and waved his cigar around in the air. "Why, our little city is always looking to get a few more taxpayers into the system. Your crimes weren't violent or damaging—well put, Flathoof," he added, nodding down at the bailiff. "And, you all cooperated with the arrest and legal proceedings."
The six mares from Ponyville instantly gathered in a huddle. Twilight spoke first, loud enough that everypony in the room could hear. "I think it's pretty obvious what we need to do here. No sense in not cooperating, right?"
"Duh, and get ourselves thrown in jail?" Rainbow shook her head. "Fluttershy wouldn't last two seconds in the clink!"
"I don't like dungeons…" Fluttershy muttered.
"That Flathoof fella seems on the level," Applejack said, glancing out of the huddle towards the mentioned stallion. "Maybe he can help us figure things out?"
Rarity's nose scrunched up—she was awake again—as she ran a hoof along the collar of her jumpsuit. "And I simply must get myself out of this awful thing, and into something a little more me."
A few moments passed in silence. They all turned to Pinkamena.
Pinkamena blinked and looked around the huddle. "What are you all looking at me for?"
"Aren't you going to suggest anything?" Twilight asked. "I did ask for everypony's opinions, though I guess at this point majority rules, doesn't it?"
Applejack chuckled. "Yeah, ain'tcha gonna suggest a party or somethin'?"
Rainbow quickly covered Applejack's mouth. "Don't give her any ideas!"
Pinkamena rolled her eyes. "A party? Pfft, c'mon Applejack I can't always have parties on my mind. But now that you mention it, what about a prison party? Ooh, I just got the best idea! We could have nail files in the cake, and—"
Rainbow groaned loudly enough to interrupt the discussion.
Twilight broke the huddle and turned back to Smokestack. She cleared her throat and nodded. "Well, I guess we're taking the second option then."
"Excellent! Most excellent." Smokestack rubbed his hooves together, then snapped a hoof towards Flathoof. "Flathoof! Please see to it they all get properly documented and added onto the parole list as quickly as you can. I'd like to see that bonus on my next paycheck, if possible."
"Right away, sir," Flathoof said, saluting. He turned towards the six mares and stepped forward. "Alright, ladies. Time to join the herd, as they say." Taking Smokestack's stack of files, he grunted and plopped them onto the table before them. "After we take care of a little paperwork."
*****
Flathoof gave a noticeable sigh as Twilight came up beside him in the precinct hallway, matching his stride with the others not too far behind her. Many other officers in the white halls were beginning to stare at Flathoof and his new entourage. He felt quite odd leading six mares dressed up in orange jumpsuits along like a clutch of ducklings, and knew he looked it too.
The group arrived at the elevator leading back to the ground floor. He pressed one of the silver buttons; it turned gold. Now they just had to wait for the elevator to come to them.
Five seconds. Ten seconds. Fifteen. Did it always take this long, or just when he was in a hurry?
Flathoof turned towards Twilight when she gave a tiny cough to draw his attention. "Yes, Miss Sparkle?"
"I wanted to thank you for helping us. I'll admit, our story might seem a little... odd," she said. She smiled and nodded appreciatively. "So, thank you."
"You can spare the pleasantries with me, Miss Sparkle," Flathoof said. "Our prisons are filled up enough as it is with all sorts of real criminals. I don't feel like seeing precious space wasted on a troupe of nudists. Not the most dangerous of crimes, y'know?"
"Wait, so you don't believe us?" Rainbow asked.
"Nnnope. Now, I don't know where exactly Ponyville is, but it sure as hay sounds like a made-up town, if you ask me. Most likely scenario is you're all refugees from out in the Wastelands just looking for food and shelter. That isn't a crime in and of itself. So think of this as killing two birds with one stone."
He saw Fluttershy grimace at his choice of idiom.
"I'm helping you get on your hooves, while keeping our prisons open to criminals who actually deserve to be there." Flathoof shrugged. "You're all lucky Chief Smokestack is willing to look the other way when he sees an opportunity to get a few bits out of it."
The elevator arrived with a soft ding and all the ponies shuffled inside at Flathoof's lead. The inside of the elevator car was stuffy, since they had to get uncomfortably close together in order for them all to fit. Three of the mares each were squished in on either side of him.
"Well, regardless of why you did it, we appreciate you doing it." Twilight cordially offered her hoof towards him. "I'm Twilight Sparkle. It's a pleasure to meet you, Officer—"
"Captain," he corrected.
"Captain Flathoof. I know you already know our names, but I feel a proper introduction is in order, seeing as we kind of owe you our freedom and all. I mean, if you don't mind?"
"Hmph." Flathoof took her hoof and gave it a very light shake. "If you insist, Miss Sparkle. Go ahead then, get on with it."
"Splendid!" Twilight clapped her hooves together and listed off her friends, starting from her left. "These are my friends, Rarity—"
Rarity nodded pleasantly. "How do you do?"
"Fluttershy—"
"Um, hi…" Fluttershy muttered.
"Rainbow Dash—"
Rainbow tilted her head. "Hey."
"Pinkie Pie—"
Pinkamena—shortened as Pinkie, it seemed—tried to bounce in place, but she was hindered by the lack of space. "Hiya! It's so cool that you're our new friend. I should throw you a party to celebrate! Oh, I just need supplies, and a place to hold the party… which we don't have. Hmm. This plan isn't working out so well yet, is it?"
"And Applejack—"
Silence.
"Applejack? Hello?"
"Wha? Oh!" Applejack blushed and rubbed the back of her head. "S-sorry, Twilight. Kinda got, uh, distracted by somethin'. Howdy!"
"Right. You're certainly a colorful group." Flathoof shook his head and muttered, "Sometimes I wonder why I get myself into these things. Why don't I just look the other way like everypony else?"
The elevator dinged again, and the elevator doors opened to reveal the bustling lobby.
It was a madhouse on the ground level compared to the relative calm of the upper floors. Ponies of all kinds were everywhere in the building, interacting with the police officers that were on duty. Some ponies were at the front desk reporting crimes or asking questions. There were other ponies being led through the station, their hooves in hoofcuffs; most of these ponies gave the six mares coy smirks as they passed by. Other officers were working at desks all across the floor, answering phones or filing papers.
Flathoof led his entourage through the first hall past the main lobby, past several offices labeled Internal Affairs, and towards the second hallway on the opposite side.
"So we're not headed for that NPRD place you mentioned?" Twilight asked, glancing back towards the lobby they'd just passed. "I thought we were getting registrations taken care of?"
"The NPRD building isn't necessary. The precinct has all the same forms and equipment here, if you know where to look and who to ask," Flathoof explained. "Besides, I can't exactly imagine any of you want to go walking out around town wearing those jumpsuits, looking like a group of convicts."
Rarity grimaced at her jumpsuit again and stroked her mane worriedly; she seemed to be the only one that cared that much about how she looked. "Please tell me we're going to be getting something to replace these soon, and a place to get some proper grooming done? I don't know about you girls, but I could really use a bath."
"Well, something like that," Flathoof said. He pointed off towards a hall to their right as they passed it, but kept going. "There's a storage room down that way were we keep all sorts of confiscated items, including clothing. We normally just donate it all to our annual auction, but I'm sure we can find something in there for you to use after we get you all sorted out. After that, you'll have to buy your own."
Flathoof turned right down a narrow hallway lit by several flickering fluorescent lamps. Near the halfway mark, he stopped and gestured to a set of double doors marked Clerk Office. The mares filed past into the room and looked around.
Unlike the rest of the police building, this room was near empty, save for two clerks seated behind a pair of dull metal desks. The nearest one, a unicorn mare with a jet black coat and bright red mane, stealthily attempted to fix her mane and adjust her thick, round glasses as Flathoof strode up to her. She wore a wide grin on her face, which she tried to hide behind a hoof, poorly.
"Oh, hey Fla— Captain Flathoof. Always a pleasure to see you. How can I be of assistance for you this fine afternoon?" She glanced over at the mares that had been following him, but did not drop her smile.
"And a fine afternoon to you too, Snapshot," Flathoof said, tipping his hat. "I need to get some identification and citizenship forms, and if you could make it snappy, I'd appreciate it."
Flathoof cringed a little at his own horrible, unintentional pun and tried to ignore it, but Pinkie had begun giggling into her hoof, breaking his concentration. He quickly added, "Oh, and some domicile registration forms as well. We'll need to find these six a place to live."
Snapshot nodded and got out of her seat. "I'll have those rounded up for you in just a minute."
"A place to live? Finding that is that part of your job too?" Rainbow asked after Snapshot had turned to a large bank of filing cabinets placed behind her desk. "Man, they make you guys do everything around here. Not like cops back home."
Flathoof sighed. "Well, it is my job as your parole officer," he said.
The six mares all blinked at once. Twilight voiced her curiosity. "Did I miss something? When did that happen? I thought you were just taking care of our documentation?"
"Yes, well, when the Chief assigned me to take care of your documentation, that was his code for 'Flathoof, you're their parole officer now'. He's subtle like that."
"Huh. Well, that’s convenient."
"Maybe for you.” He removed his hat and stroked a hoof along the captain insignia. "This isn't exactly what I imagined I'd be doing as a captain. I'd really rather be back out on the streets trying to catch real crooks."
"But, does that mean you don't like us?" Pinkie frowned and started sniffing back tears.
"I never said that," Flathoof added, hoping to avoid any waterworks. "I'd just prefer if I was actually out there on the streets instead of being a glorified foalsitter. No offense, but this sort of duty isn't exactly what I signed on for. Too much desk work, not enough hoof work."
Applejack grunted and adjusted her hat. "Ya make it sound like we're imposin' on ya. If ya don't like it, why not just find somepony else to take over and let us do our own thing? We can take care of ourselves."
Flathoof hesitated, then sighed. "Your little troupe here looked like a bunch of fish out of water. Like I said, I don't know where exactly you're from, but you sure aren't from around here, and I'm not about to send a bunch of know-nothing mares out there without a clue. You already tried that and look where it got you."
"Fair point," Twilight said.
"Now, if you don't like my attitude, that's your own problem, because I'm not changing it. Nnnope. Not. At. All."
Applejack stared at him for a brief moment, then shook her head and let the others get back to talking. He wasn't sure if his answer had satisfied her or not, and didn't really care.
Snapshot returned from the filing cabinets behind her and produced all the paperwork everypony would require. Twilight volunteered to have hers filled out first, and sat at the other side of the desk as Snapshot organized all the paperwork together.
Snapshot adjusted her glasses and hovered a pen over the form. "Okay, everypony, let's get started. We've got lots to do. So, you first: name?"
"Twilight Sparkle."
Snapshot nodded and filled out the corresponding space on the form, then skipped ahead to the next one. "Coat color, purple—"
"It's more of a lavender, really," Twilight said, her smile incredulous. She clearly expected a police officer filling out a very official document to care about specific tones of color. Proof enough she didn't know how things worked around here.
"Purple," said Snapshot, giving an irritated sigh. "Particular shades and hues aren't important for the forms. Your photograph will take care of that just fine. I'd like to just get this quickly without having to pick out specifics, okay?"
Twilight wrinkled her nose and nodded. "Alright then."
"Good. Now then, mane and tail, purple with a pink streak. Eyes, purple." Snapshot adjusted her glasses and stared at Twilight. "Should I just fill out everything on here 'purple'? I'm just noticing a pattern is all."
"Hey, it's not my fault you don't use shades and hues," Twilight huffed.
Snapshot shrugged and moved down to the next section of the form. "Next, special talent?"
"Magic."
Snapshot gave Twilight a look of disbelief and confusion. "Okay, sweetheart, I don't know if you've noticed but... you're a unicorn. Magic isn't a special talent, all unicorns can—"
Twilight laughed. "No, I mean, Magic itself is my talent. I can perform almost every kind of magic there is. I just need to see it used or have it described, and I can usually duplicate the spell. Typically not as well as the unicorns who specialize with specific types of magic, but for most generic stuff I'm better at it than the average unicorn."
She caught herself at the end and added, "N-not to brag or anything."
"Well okay, if you say so, O Magic One." Snapshot rolled her eyes as she jotted that down, then flipped the page and headed for the next section. "Former residence? Be specific this time."
"Ponyville. Uh, Utopia." Twilight smiled, and crossed her forelegs, confident in what everypony knew was a lie. "Ponyville, Utopia."
Snapshot raised an eyebrow and stared at Twilight again as if the other unicorn was insane. "Ponyville? There isn't any—"
"We've been over this already, Snapshot," Flathoof interjected. "Just put it in there and save yourself the headache. If anypony asks, say it's a new village or something."
"Right, okay." Snapshot sighed, and pointed her pen lazily at Flathoof. "You're lucky it's you asking me for all this, Flathoof. I'm gonna have to make sure this story stays straight or the NPRD is gonna come after me."
"Much appreciated."
"Moving on." Snapshot turned back to Twilight and set her pen back to the paper. "Former occupation, if applicable? Again, be specific, since this part actually matters and it'll likely affect your tax bracket and job opportunities."
Twilight thought for a moment. "Librarian."
Snapshot smiled and jotted the answer down. "Finally, something simple. Since Flathoof would want me too, I'll add a note of recommendation here for Central Database Holdings. Should help you find work quicker. Okay, that just about settles it, only gotta notarize it. Captain Flathoof is the author—"
"Aha, nnnope, don't put my name there," Flathoof said. He replaced his hat on his head, as it had fumbled in the sudden interruption. "The Chief would kill me if he found out I took one of his commissions."
"Commissions?" Twilight asked. Snapshot was busy scribbling other notes on the form that she didn't seem to need Twilight for anyway, which she seemed to take as a chance to ask Flathoof yet another question or two. She was a curious one, this Twilight.
"The pony who authorizes the form gets a pay bonus, since they're the one responsible for increasing the city's tax flow. That's why the Chief assigned me to take care of this: he trusts me not to try and take a cut." Flathoof sighed. "It stinks, since I could really use that bonus."
"Ain'tcha worried 'bout gettin' in trouble talkin' like that in front of your fellow officers?" Applejack asked. Her eyes flickered to Snapshot, then back to him. "Can't imagine anypony'd take too kindly to bein' accused of bein' crooked."
"Oh don't worry about Snapshot. She's a good egg." Snapshot didn't lift her nose out of the pile of papers she was working on, but Flathoof could see her smile. "Everypony around here knows I always speak my mind. They also know that if they don't like what I've got to say, they can always try and make me stop. See how well that works out for 'em."
He pounded his chest with one of his large forelegs and gave a hearty laugh.
Applejack's mouth curled up in a small smile, apparently impressed.
"Okay, and check, check, double-check, stamp here, done." Snapshot neatly straightened the pile of papers and turned them around to face Twilight, drawing her attention by tapping her pen against the bottom. "I just need you to sign here—" She flipped the page and pointed at the bottom again. "And here—" She flipped to the back page and pointed in three separate locations. "Here, here, and here."
Twilight signed each with the pen provided.
Snapshot smiled and straightened the papers again, then shuffled them neatly into a small folder. "Wonderful, now we just need to take your photograph and you're all done. Over here please." She stood up and trotted off towards a small booth on the side of the room.
Twilight nodded and followed Snapshot over, then promptly hopped into the seat that was provided for her. She then must have realized she was still in the tacky prisoner jumpsuit. "Uh, do I really want to be wearing this when I take my picture? Everypony I show my identification to will think I was a convict."
"Sucks to be you." Snapshot shrugged and adjusted the camera without looking at Twilight directly. "Look, if you've got a problem with it, I'll just draw in your frame, 'cause we need your picture and we need it now. Fair warning: I'm not a very good artist."
"Fine, fine," Twilight sighed. "Is Flathoof the only courteous pony around here? Yeesh."
She sat in front of the large, plain poster frame that would serve as the backdrop, and waited for Snapshot to take the picture. And waited. And waited. Twilight made to speak, when there was a bright, unexpected flash that made her shut her eyes.
Within a few moments, Snapshot produced a tiny card out of the machine attached to the camera, passing it over to Twilight after the latter had finished rubbing her eyes.
Twilight grumbled when she saw her identification. She was half-blinking in the middle of the shot and her mouth was half open in the process of asking a question; it made her look like some sort of drunk they just pulled off the street for a photo shoot.
Flathoof merely shook his head. "Eh, good enough. It'll get you through things until we can get you sorted for a reshoot."
"Why can't I just take another one now?" Twilight asked.
"Rules are rules!" Snapshot said sweetly. "Sorry, but that ID is official now, you've gotta fill out some forms and such to have another picture taken, and I'm afraid there's a charge for it."
Twilight muttered something under her breath that Flathoof didn't quite hear, but he suspected it wasn't pleasant. Snapshot certainly had a way with ponies.
The other five mares sat with Snapshot and filled their forms out and had their pictures taken as well, until everypony had their ID cards and were ready to be properly indoctrinated to life here in New Pandemonium City.
"Well then, you girls are all settled in as far as registration goes," Flathoof said, looking over the ID cards. "See? Snapshot got that taken care of in no time flat. Now, I'm going to get your lodging taken care of, so you all go take a seat over there," he added, gesturing to the seats against the wall.
"Thanks again, Captain Flathoof," Twilight said.
Flathoof nodded and stepped out into the hall, heading for the nearby outgoing phone. He had a very important call to make if this was all going to go smoothly.
*****
Once Flathoof had stepped away, Twilight took the opportunity to discuss the situation with her friends, hoping to come to terms with things and maybe discuss a possible solution. She was still at a loss for what had happened and what was still happening. All of this was just so alien to her that she couldn't really think straight.
"Well girls, we may as well make the most of this, at least for now, right?" she said as she looked to the others, hoping for reassurance. "I'm still bothered by that portal, to be honest. I've got so many questions about how it worked and why it sent us here. It might have clues for how to get back."
"Hmph, if ya ask me, we should just be glad nopony got hurt," Applejack said. She adjusted her hat and leaned back in her seat. "But you're right, Twi, we may as well try and get used to bein' here, at least for now. I just hope everything's okay back at home. Hopefully Big Mac'll be able to handle the crops for a lil' while, and be able to look out for Apple Bloom at the same time."
Twilight nodded. "Yeah, I'm worried about Spike and Owlowiscious. Spike knew we were leaving and was watching the library while we were gone, but I don't think he could have anticipated all of this. I know I sure didn't. I'm sure he's okay, but… well, I worry. How is anypony even going to know what happened to us?"
"Well, I'm not too worried about Gummy," Pinkie said, though her expression told Twilight that wasn't entirely true. "I'm sure the Cakes can take good care of him. I feel bad that they don't have me around to help with the twins though. They're gonna be super tired by the time we get home!"
Fluttershy gave a loud sniff. "Oh, just think of what all the animals are going to do without me there… especially my poor little Angel Bunny…"
"Come on, girls, this is no time to get discouraged," Rarity said, patting Fluttershy on the shoulder. "We might be in a bind, but at least we're in it together. I know I'm worried about Sweetie Belle, but sitting here and worrying about things like this won't get us any closer to solving the problem."
"Yeah, we should have some faith that things back home'll work out while we're gone," added Applejack. "Right?"
"Right!" Pinkie exclaimed, throwing her hooves into the air dramatically. "We need to stay focused on the here and now! Like getting a place to live! When Mister Flathoof finds us a place, I'm gonna throw us a huge house-warming party! I'm gonna need streamers, balloons, cake, ice cream, soda pop, candy, cookies, cupcakes, music, banners—"
Rainbow sighed and leaned back into her chair, though she did have a slight grin on her face. "There she goes. Even when we're stuck in a jam like this, the first thing on her mind is her next party."
"Aww, don't complain, Dashie!" Pinkie giggled and gave Rainbow a big hug. "You love my parties! More than anypony, I bet!"
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Rainbow replied, patting Pinkie's back.
"And besides, the last big party I threw was two weeks ago, and that's like a new record for me! I gotta have another party soon, or I might just explode, maybe twice! And with this whole new world to explore, I want to get started off on the right hoof. Ooh, I bet Mister Flathoof would love my parties too!"
"Well, ya might as well ask him," Applejack said, nodding towards the approaching stallion.
Flathoof returned from the hall and approached the group with a smile on his face. "Well, that's all taken care of. You ladies have a new place to live. We'll head there immediately and get you all settled in, so hop to it."
Pinkie bounded out of her seat and got face-to-face with Flathoof. "Hey Mister Flathoof—"
"Captain Flathoof, if you're going to insist on adding a title. I think I've earned it."
"Okay, Captain Flathoof!"
Pinkie took a deep breath.
Rainbow chuckled. "Here we go."
"♫Ohhh
You are our newest bestest friend and that is just so great!
You're invited to a party where the fun will be first-rate!
You'll get to spend some time with us and share our company!
And maybe when we're done you'll find we are the best ponies!"
Flathoof stared blankly at Pinkie for several moments, his eyes glazed over between blinks. Then, he turned to the nearest pony he could ask, Applejack. "Does she do that often?"
Applejack smirked and patted him on the shoulder. "Oh, you'll get used to it. Trust me. You'll have to."
He sighed and adjusted his hat. "What have I gotten myself into?"
*****
An icy blue unicorn grumbled to herself as she rounded her way up the flight of stairs leading to her apartment. She hated being on the hundredth floor for two reasons: one, there wasn't an elevator, so she had to climb the full hundred floors stair by stair; two, her window filter was broken and let outside air in, all of it smoggy and dirty.
Unfortunately this was where she had to live to do her job most efficiently; it wasn't worth the risk to let the city go without her being there.
The apartment complex wasn't particularly well-kept, but it was cheap. Really cheap. Which was good, since her job didn't actually have much in the way of monetary compensation. Her superiors ensured she would have a place to live and plenty of food to eat, but she had almost no spending money for use in her free time, not that she ever had much of that anyway.
She often wondered if any of her counterparts had this sort of difficulty working in their worlds.
She grudgingly opened her apartment door with a rusty set of keys, walked in, and took a deep breath to calm herself after the climb, regretting it as she got a mouthful of filthy, smoggy late afternoon air. She shook what felt like dust and cobwebs out of her snow white mane—they had a habit of clinging to her on the climb up—then dropped her keys on the nearby table and placed her scarf and beret on hooks by the door.
With a cough, she went to her kitchen, opened the refrigerator, and prepared a snack for herself. Prepared, of course, meant just taking a packet of Dolor Red out, opening it, then squeezing it out of its little tube directly into her mouth. It wasn't anything special, but it wasn't bad. Straight out of the package it tasted like overly ripe cherries.
She kept the packet aloft with her magic as she moved out into the den to take a load off. It had been a hard day at work, and she delighted in taking this chance to lounge on her sofa and just plain relax. Fifteen cases today, the last of which was nearly interrupted by a pack of nudists of all things. She hated portal storms.
She flicked on the television set in the corner, hoping to lose herself in the latest gossip that she didn't actually care about. It was calming, and living in a city like New Pandemonium meant she needed all the calm she could get.
Then, she noticed a neon green glow coming from her antique grandfather clock in the other corner. She hastily fumbled in the pocket of her turtleneck and pulled out a plain-looking, silver stopwatch. She clicked the top with her hoof, and the grandfather clock stopped glowing, opened wide, and let in a fresh breeze of sterile air with just a hint of minty freshness.
Despite knowing she was alone in the apartment, she followed protocol and double-checked the room for intruders, then entered the grandfather clock's tight entrance shutting the door behind her with a click.
The clock was much bigger on the inside, as big as the den she'd just left. It was filled with all sorts of gadgets, tools, monitors, levers, knobs, and other assorted clockwork wonders that looked nothing like the contemporary technology outside. Its size meant it wasn't directly attached to the world she'd just left, either; if it were, she'd be standing in her neighbor's bathroom right now, probably in the bathtub, or worse, the toilet.
One particular monitor drew her attention. It glowed bright red, as opposed to the soothing greens and blues of the others. She trotted over to it, clicked a few buttons, and adjusted the screen's focus until she could make out the image of a familiar face, a turquoise pegasus mare with a sea green mane: Summer Rains.
"Well now, this is a surprise. G'day, Summer," she said.
"Oh, thank Celestia, I thought you'd never answer!" She wiped her brow and gave the unicorn a look of sympathy. "Stupid portal storms. How's by you, Winter? You look like you went a few rounds in the ring with a boxer, doncha know."
"Yeah, been flat out all bloody day tryin' to calm everythin' down with this bloody portal storm. Finally got a chance to rest up, and now here you are." Winter Glow—for that was her name—shook her head and sighed. "You're on the emergency channel. Somethin' must be wrong."
"Well that's just it. There is, but I'm not sure exactly what, yet." Summer sighed and wiped her brow again. "I mean, there shouldn't be anythin' wrong, but I think my current case had an error somewhere and I can't figure out what it is.
"I had a pretty standard tear here, and accordin' to all my readings it started out rather small, nothin' special. Unfortunately, it appeared a little too close to an actual town. I usually don't have that sort of trouble, not like you do, believe you me. The locals don't usually see the tears before I get to them, but I got delayed by that frackin' mailpony and—"
"Mailpony?" Winter asked, eyebrow cocked.
Summer waved a hoof. "Nevermind. Anyway, somepony did somethin' to the tear, doncha know, and whatever happened, six ponies were taken from my world. Accordin' to the measurements I got from the Void rivulets, they flowed towards yours. That's the long and short of it. Cripes, it sounds real bad, don't it?"
"Now now, no need to get your knickers in a twist. It'll be alright," Winter assured her. "We've got protocols for this sort of thing. I'll just get them to another portal, give my Timekeeper a little click—" She mimed clicking her stopwatch. "Wind it up, send the poor blighters home, no worries."
"Aw geez, I mean, you make it sound easy."
"What's the big problem? You're actin' like this is serious. Look at ya, you're sweatin' and everythin'. It'll be a piece of piss, mate."
"That's just it, I can't explain it!" Summer blurted. She took out her own Timekeeper and frantically pointed at it. "These past few hours, I've been gettin' some bizarre readings from all over my end. Chaos levels are all out the wazoo!"
"Out the wazoo, huh?" Winter rubbed the side of her head in thought. "You're right, that makes no bloody sense at all. Ya think these things are connected?"
"Yup. I need you to find these ponies so that I can try and figure out what caused this; one of them has to be responsible. Luckily the levels are pretty low right now, but it's not still not good news, believe you me. Honestly, I'm hopin' that it's just a glitch from sealin' a portal with that much energy, but I have to prepare for the worst, doncha know."
"Sounds simple enough." Winter frowned. "Shit. I probably won't be able to send them home for a while, though. That portal storm just finished passin' through and I already sealed everythin' up. I'm not expectin' any more natural tears for another month or so. That won't be a problem will it?"
Summer sighed and wiped her brow again. "Aw geez, this isn't a good day is it? Frack. Well, we'll worry about that after we find out who they are. If it's serious, you can always fall back on emergency measures. Hopefully this is just a minor glitch and we can fix it and be back to normal. I'll send you my dimensional data so you can track them."
"Yeah, no worries mate."
"Thanks again, Winter. Always a pleasure."
Winter smiled. "Not at all, Summer. Always good talkin' to ya."
Summer pushed several buttons, and a sound behind Winter signaled that the information she was sending was being transferred over.
Winter waved farewell to Summer, then grabbed her Timekeeper and tapped it to the central core, copying the data into the more portable device. She then opened it and clicked the top several times, until it glowed a dull green with a tracking display on the face, directing her towards her quarries.
Finally, she exited the grandfather clock and ventured back out into her apartment, straightened her turtleneck, put her scarf back on, and began the arduous descent back down the stairs to the city streets.
A Chronomancer's work was never done.
*****
Thousands of miles south of New Pandemonium City, beyond the great expanse of the arid wastes that bordered the city's mile-high walls and across the great, churning sea, there was a place altogether wondrous and terrible. A place filled with magic that lived and breathed of its own accord, spurned on by the relentless power that fueled it. A place where one could watch as lightning endlessly danced across the sky, and where fire raged yet never burned out.
The Belt of Tranquility.
The Belt stretched precisely along the equator, in the center of the massive ocean that separated the northern and southern continents.
To its north, the sky was filled with a veil of churning magic colored a fiery orange, flowing from a massive tower in the center of New Pandemonium City, sitting precisely at the planet's northern pole.
To its south, the air was clear and bright, kept clean by a veil of invisible magic flowing from a similar tower at the southern pole, itself sitting at the center of a much smaller city deep within the snowy tundra.
Where these two fields of magic collided, the Belt of Tranquility formed, a massive wall of chaotic magical energy that caused the seas and skies along the entire equator to thrash violently about.
And today, something was amiss.
A consciousness floated tenuously in the rift between realms material and not, poised just north of where the magical energies were at their fiercest. It could feel that something was out of place. The Belt of Tranquility was very slowly shifting; the southern light was ever so slightly pushing north.
This would not do, the entity mused to itself. This would not do at all. The entity willed itself to fully enter the immaterial so that it could contact the one pony that would see to it that this dilemma was resolved.
*****
Lord Silvertongue looked out the window of his private study, out into the cityscape of New Pandemonium far, far below. Here in the highest reaches of Pandora Tower, Pandemonium's tallest skyscraper, he could see the entire skyline of the city.
His study was elegant and richly decorated with varieties of items that Silvertongue held dear to him: the banner of New Pandemonium City decorated the far wall, a flaming red sword thrust through a shining golden disk against a black void; an old portrait of himself was posted with esteem on the nearest wall just above the mantelpiece; a record player, an antique from times long forgotten, rest upon the table in the corner and played his favorite ballad.
The ballad was from an old opera, sung in a language that relatively few in Pandemonium could speak. The singer, a mare with a high falsetto, filled the lyrics with her soul, bringing the scene to life as her character was confronted by her lover, the opera's villain, who asked her to give up her life as a princess to run away with him. It was meant to be the climax of the opera. Silvertongue played it because it brought him peace of mind, something that he, as the shadow ruler of this great city, felt was crucial to his sanity.
The world's Dark magic was at its strongest here in this city, at this tower, for this was where the great northern Beacon had been built; the structure generated a veil of fiery orange magic that blocked out the sky above, even the light of the sun. The Beacon was fueled by the evil thoughts in the minds of ponies and influenced them along dark paths in life; while not every single citizen in the city succumbed to such things—in fact, astonishingly few of them actually did—enough corruption and easily-overlooked laws were in place to make chaos and wrongdoing a typical day-to-day activity even if ponies were unaware of it.
To the average onlooker, nothing in the city made sense. He'd designed it that way in order to keep the Beacon running. The ponies below were easy to deceive. Easy to exploit.
The record finished, and so Silvertongue tore himself from the window and his inner thoughts. His horn glowed a grim red as he lifted the record from its place, returned it to its sleeve, and replaced it in the nearby cabinet, where it would remain until he wished for it again.
He turned back to the window, his horn aglow, and flicked a number of switches alongside it. The window darkened until it was completely black, then became a perfectly reflective surface, bouncing the image of the room back at him.
He carefully gauged himself in the reflection. His pristine ivory coat was as pure and radiant as ever. Not a single golden hair in his impeccably-styled mane was out of place. A monocle rested upon his left eye, and was spotless enough that it enhanced the luster of the sea-blue color. His fanciest dress uniform was immaculate and covered him from neck to flank, the shiny black chitinous material polished and gleaming in the single light of the room, the red trim glistening like freshly-picked cherries.
His appearance was absolutely perfect. It had to be. Nihila's prized Warden wouldn't allow otherwise in her presence.
"You were expecting me."
Silvertongue did not turn to face the source of the voice, that of Nihila, the Goddess of Disparity. There would be no point; she spoke directly into his mind. There was no physical thing to even look at. In all things Silvertongue knew, he knew this: alicorns were the most exquisite creatures in existence, blessed with such incredible magic that they were above physical forms. Flesh was not worthy enough to contain their elegance and raw power. Physical beauty of even the absolute highest caliber could not compare to how alicorns appeared in one's mind's eye.
"I am always expecting you, my lady." Silvertongue bowed, even though he was the only physical being in the room. "It would be of no benefit to me to be in any less than flawless condition, lest you visit me in dire straits and become dissatisfied with my dedication."
"Well spoken, my Warden," Nihila cooed.
Silvertongue shuddered at the way her voice touched the deepest recesses of his mind. It would be alarming were he not used to it.
"I come to you with urgent news this day. Troubling news."
Silvertongue's curiosity showed on his face for the fleetest minuscule of a second, and he briefly touched upon a thought of concern that his intrigue would be mistaken for worry.
She spoke again. "The balance between Light and Darkness is waning."
He raised an eyebrow. "'Waning'? Harmonia would never indulge herself in such an action. It goes against her very nature."
"I have seen it first-hoof, my Warden," Nihila said. "Do you not trust my claims?"
Silvertongue smirked as a spark of anger flared through his mind. She loved to tease his devotion.
"It would be folly of me to trust you unquestioningly, my lady. Deception comes as naturally to you as fish take to water and birds to the sky. I didn't mean to sound as though I doubted you. I merely state the obvious: Harmonia cannot be to blame here. I know far too well that she would never threaten the balance on her own whims."
Nihila's fiery anger left him, replaced by an icy calm that filled his being in a soft, gentle manner. "That is a valid observation. If not Harmonia, then what could be causing this imbalance? I would have you investigate the issue and discern the cause. You are most efficient in these matters."
"I cannot fathom a guess as to where to begin," he stated, stroking his chin. "If it is the Light that has shifted, then I would need to investigate the southern Beacon, and I do not have the resources to gather information easily; the zebras are notoriously vigilant in their defenses. Such a task would perhaps take months to accomplish, assuming the best conditions."
"Troubling indeed. But, perhaps you don't need to concern yourself with the south," Nihila cooed.
Another spark swam through his head, this of creativity. She had an idea.
"Has anything suspicious occurred in your city lately, my Warden? I could feel many disturbances in the Void this day. They did not linger long. Another accursed Chronomancer has taken to your city. A shame, wasting all of that delicious energy." Her voice became sultry. The feeling was both terrifying and enticing all at once, and made Silvertongue's skin crawl.
"Yes, I'll admit that I do recall murmurs of such anomalies. It's the first time in decades that anypony in the city has witnessed Void phenomena, even if they know not what to call it. A moment, my lady." Silvertongue strode over to his intercom system and tapped one of the buttons. "Shroud."
"Yes, sir?" came a mare's voice over the intercom.
"I need a report of all suspicious activity that may have occurred in the city in the last, say... twelve hours."
"Of course, sir, I'll have a full report on your desk in less than thirty—"
"Now, Shroud, if you would? This is of critical importance."
He could hear her nervous gulp. "Of course sir, one moment. Um, let's see…" A shuffle of papers and clicks of buttons came from the other end. "Here we are. There were numerous sightings of strange energies around the city, but they all disappeared soon after being spotted."
"Yes, yes, I'm already well aware of that, Shroud. Anything else? Perhaps something I wouldn't find on the news?"
"Very well, moving on… oh! Here's one from the NPPD and NPRD Census Bureau. Apparently they registered six new taxpayers from Utopia today, and Police Chief Smokestack put in for his pay bonus application rather suddenly. The Committee thinks—"
Silvertongue slammed a hoof next to the intercom. "I'm not concerned with what the Committee thinks!"
He hated the need for the Committee. Their jobs were so contradictory to everything the city stood for, but he needed them to ensure that all of the day-to-day ruling was taken care of. He'd long since sunk into the shadows of maintaining the city, but could not become too involved himself, not directly. Though when they made mistakes and too much order returned to the city… well, that rarely ever happened anymore, he'd made sure of that.
Silvertongue hummed to himself. "Deliver that report immediately."
"Yes sir, right away. Do you need anything else, sir?"
"That'll be all, Shroud."
The intercom shut off.
Silvertongue waited for only a moment before the folder containing what he was looking for teleported in front of him, falling neatly onto his desk. He opened it and removed the files, then flipped through the pages. As he read, his face contorted in cemented concentration, and he probed the pieces of this particularly peculiar puzzle.
"Something amiss, my Warden?" Nihila asked.
"I never get new citizens from Utopia," Silvertongue said.
"I can think of one exception," she said, sending a teasing spark through his soul.
"Only one exception, my lady." Silvertongue tapped his chin. "It is most suspicious that six new visitors from Utopia would arrive today, all at the same time and even in the same place and all with the same story. The Committee, small-minded fools that they are, believe their tale to be a fabrication and that these six are in actuality refugees from the Wastelands.
"There is a minor detail in this report about them being apprehended on charges of… Public Indecency. Hmm, I'd almost forgotten that was actually a law, not just common courtesy. The Committee is more concerned with the Chief of Police taking a rather large cut of the allotment of funds these new citizens will generate; they think that he is covering for them somehow."
"Is that all, my Warden? It sounds dreadfully dull as-is, well beneath my interest."
Silvertongue thought for a moment before responding. "These Void fluctuations milady, you posit the belief that a Chronomancer was involved in sealing them rather than the rifts sealing themselves naturally?"
"That I did. Do you see some connection here?"
"Perhaps these new citizens are from someplace more… alien. Quite a coincidence, is it not? For there to be multiple distortions on this precise day, and for six new ponies to appear with no knowledge of our customs, all claiming to be from across the sea? We know little of what exactly it is that Chronomancers do, but perhaps this is somehow related?"
Nihila stayed silent for a moment, then responded with the icy calm from earlier. "My Warden, uncover more about these creatures you have found. I await a swift response."
He bowed. "As always, my lady."
Silvertongue felt her leave, and at last felt at ease again. While Nihila's essence was in his mind, he found it difficult to avoid having his entire series of thoughts laid bare for her to pore over like a book. Even after all these years he found it discomforting, and he knew that she was never far away and could do it at any time she wanted; a moment's privacy was rare indeed.
He pushed the button on the intercom again. "Shroud."
"Yes, sir?"
"Summon Shadowstep for me, if you would?"
"Of course sir, I'll notify him right away."
Silvertongue lit his horn and darkened the room, then patiently waited. One minute. Two minutes. He sensed a presence with him, a physical one at that, and lit his horn again to re-illuminate his study.
Sitting in the chair that had been empty before on the other side of his desk was a lithe pegasus stallion. He wore a black, form-fitting uniform with a deep purple gradient as it approached his head. It covered him from head to hoof, hiding any meaningful identity. All that could be used to distinguish him were his bright green eyes, the slightest bits of a pale blue coat, and his short and tidy midnight blue mane and tail that stuck out through slips in the fabric.
Silvertongue did not bother himself with the effort of turning to face the new guest. He could sense his presence just fine, and see him clearly in the reflection on the window screen.
Silvertongue nodded. "Punctual as always, Shadowstep."
"Of course, my lord," the pegasus said, getting out of the seat to bow before sitting back down again. "You called me? That means you have a job for me, yeah? What is it? Ooh, is it poisoning the drink of somepony on the Committee again? I do so love assassinations. Please tell me it's an assassination?"
"Not this time. No, this is one occasion where I can't imagine any violence will be necessary. At least for now." Silvertongue's horn glowed as he tossed the portfolio neatly onto the desk behind him. "There. That portfolio holds your initial targets."
Shadowstep pawed at the folder, opening it warily, then scanned the information within.
Inside the docket were the identification pictures and file information on six newly registered ponies from Ponyville, Utopia. Ponyville. It was the most ridiculously simplistic made-up name for a town that Silvertongue had ever heard, not at all suitable to a world dominated by ponies. Perhaps ponies would soon claim to come from Colt City, or Fillytown. Simply ridiculous—no, whimsical, like something out of a fairy tale intended for small foals.
The mares' names seemed normal enough—minus the orange earth pony, since even with all his knowledge Silvertongue didn't recognize the word "apple" unless in the context of a pineapple—and they certainly looked normal enough, even if some of their ID pictures were somewhat odd: the purple unicorn looked intoxicated, and the orange earth pony appeared somewhat brain-dead.
Shadowstep placed the portfolio back on the desk once he'd reviewed it, then leaned back in the chair and crossed his hooves. "What's so important about them? They don't even look like anypony'd miss 'em if they were to suddenly… disappear."
"That's not really any of your concern yet, Shadowstep," Silvertongue said. "But it is what you're going to find out. Find them. Follow them. See if they do or mention anything peculiar. If you happen to notice anypony else tailing them around, follow them as well, and if at all possible ensure they won't interfere with any potential plans. If you follow my meaning?"
Shadowstep pumped a hoof. "Yes! I knew there was murder involved somewhere here, otherwise why call me? Oh, thank you, sir!"
Silvertongue grunted. "You have your orders, carry them out."
"Yes, sir."
Silvertongue flicked the lights off and on again once more, and in the brief matter of seconds that the lights flickered, Shadowstep had vanished. If there was one pony good, perhaps perfect, at his job—so long as that job was sneaking around through the darkness and being a spy or assassin—then Silvertongue knew nopony more qualified than Shadowstep and nopony more loyal to him.
Alone at last and not expecting any more company anytime soon, Silvertongue placed a new record on the player. Eyeing the contents of the folder once more, he stared thoughtfully at the pictures of six mares that he was absolutely certain were going to be very interesting.
Chapter Three: Casualty
As Flathoof escorted his group of parolees through the city streets, he gave them a rather thorough rundown on what they could expect while they'd be living here. Twilight, who was determined to soak up all the information she could in hopes of hearing something useful, listened with rapt attention as details and tidbits poured from the stallion's mouth; the others, thankfully, mostly kept quiet and let her do her thing.
The Mid-South District had the best conditions out of all of the Mid Districts in New Pandemonium City. That wasn't saying much, but it was still worth noting; in Flathoof's words, it was like saying that this pile of rusted cans was better than all the other piles just because you stacked everything up neatly. Twilight wondered how bad the rest of the city was if this was considered the best.
Mid-South's skyscrapers were smaller and dirtier than the gleaming spires of the Inner Districts which towered over the rest of the city; those were composed of high-rise lofts and penthouses that housed the rich and famous, high-class office buildings and corporation headquarters, and where most of the ponies that worked for the government lived to avoid mingling with the common rabble.
Central Plaza, the busiest sub-sector in Mid-South, was as close to those conditions one could hope for; Twilight couldn't decide if that was a complement for Central Plaza or an insult to the Inner Districts. It was expensive to live here, even though it was ridiculously cheap compared to the Inner Districts' glitz and glamour.
What made it so expensive was that all—not some, all—of the most important organizations had their headquarters or their best-equipped centers here in this sub-sector. The New Pandemonium Police Department's Central Station was here, as was the headquarters for the New Pandemonium Registration Department. New Pandemonium Medical also had its largest clinic here and the same could be said for General Goods and Groceries and the New Pandemonium Fire Brigade.
There was also the Central Database Holdings, which at Flathoof's description sounded an awful lot like a library to Twilight and was where she'd be going to look for work according to Snapshot—and for research, but she didn't tell him that.
All of these structures were conveniently within relative walking distance to anypony that happened to live in any of the four domestic complexes that made up the borders of Central Plaza. If you didn't live in Central Plaza, then the horrendous travel time to get to the best service in the city, Inner District excluded, was considered shockingly inconvenient.
Exacerbating the issue were the police and fire brigade response times, which were simply atrocious. Flathoof explained that on average, it took about fifteen minutes or less for officers from his precinct to respond to a call from within the Central Plaza itself. Considering that the sub-sector was a few dozen miles square, this was a typical expectation if slightly slow. If you lived elsewhere in Mid-South, then anywhere between thirty and fifty minutes could be expected even in a severe emergency, perhaps sixty minutes if you lived closer to the borders of the other districts.
If you lived in either Mid-East or Mid-West, the NPPD Central Station's record time for responding to an emergency call was ninety minutes, and they'd been known to take twice that long on average. Mid-North? Two hours on average. The fire brigade was apparently just as bad, and entire neighborhoods had burnt down in the past because of similar pathetically-slow response times.
Luckily, the medical professionals did not have the same problem. The only issue there was whether the clinic in a sub-sector had the proper equipment or experienced personnel that was needed to handle whatever somepony's health issue was. Otherwise, a patient had to make the trip to Central General, which had the best equipment and staff in the city. If the patient was going on their own accord, this was usually fine. In the case of a severe emergency, however, an ambulance would take about the same amount of time the police or fire brigade would take to get to their patient, then double it due to the return trip.
Flathoof explained that back when he'd just been a rookie, he'd arrived at the scene of a riot in Mid-North nearly thirty minutes after it had ended. Some twenty ponies had needed to be hospitalized, and because of the severity and nature of their injuries they had to go all the way to Central Plaza to get treatment. Several of them died en route.
"That day completely changed my outlook on the way the city works," Flathoof said with a heavy sigh, "or rather how it doesn't. It made me rethink the way I need to work to make a change. It baffles me to no end. It's almost like the city doesn't want to be organized."
"Why don't they have any smaller stations in the other districts?" Twilight asked. "Surely that would help, wouldn't it?"
"Oh, they do have other stations, but they're so understaffed and overworked that Central often responds to more calls from their districts than they do themselves. I've considered transferring to another precinct, but I'd be just as overworked and wouldn't be able to contribute enough to make much difference."
"Surely it would be better than nothing at all, wouldn't it?"
"Yeah, I know every little bit counts, but I think I'm doing more good being here than anywhere else. I can't just up and leave that, not without a really good reason."
"How 'bout that other officer that helped us with all that there paperwork?" Applejack asked.
Twilight noted that Applejack still seemed slightly miffed as she looked at her ID photo—she couldn't blame her, given her own photo. How Snapshot had been able to take the picture at just the precise moment needed to make her look like a drunkard back from a night on the town just baffled her. Applejack's made her look like some country bumpkin, upper teeth exposed and eyes half-lidded just so. That kind of precision timing seemed impossible, but there it was.
Flathoof raised an eyebrow. "Snapshot? She's a good mare."
He smiled at the incredulous looks Twilight and Applejack were giving him, and shook his head.
"Okay, she's a bit testy, I'll admit, but she means well, plus she's reliable, trustworthy, and knows her way around paperwork. That's why I went to her instead of going to the other clerks, or worse, the Registrations Department. It would've taken days to get through all the roundabout nonsense they'd put you through."
"It's perfectly normal to call in favors from friends in the workplace," Rarity noted. "I'm sure we all appreciate the hoops you two had to go through to help us out of our predicament."
"True, though I typically try to avoid working the system to my advantage. But you six needed help, and Snapshot knows all the loopholes to go through in order to ensure your files get registered by tonight. You'll be documented citizens in under an hour, I'd imagine. Probably already are, actually."
"Is there any particular reason for the rush?" Twilight asked. "Not that we don't appreciate it, but I'm curious."
Flathoof gave a concerned frown and shook his head. "If you all didn't have a place to live and such by the end of the day and no notarized documents, our policy is to escort you out to the slums of the Outer District and set you loose until your documents clear, which might take days. Weeks, even, if you're unlucky."
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "That seems irresponsible."
"Oh, I'm not done. See, after the documents clear, policy is to go looking for you for maybe a few hours, and if we can't find you, you're presumed dead or missing. Most of the time the assumption turns out true, but nopony really knows."
"Good heavens, you'd just… abandon ponies like that? Atrocious! Simply atrocious!" Rarity snorted with disgust and stuck her nose in the air. "How does your department live with themselves? And you work for ponies like that?"
The accusation made Flathoof wince. "Look, I don't make the rules and I certainly don't like a lot of them. If I had the ability to ensure that everypony that didn't get their affairs in order quickly enough was still taken care of, believe me, I would. Besides, it's rare for anypony to end up in a situation similar to yours."
He scratched his head. "I'm still confused how you girls managed to get all the way into the Mid-Districts looking like you did without anypony noticing you sooner. You should've been caught in the Gate District well before you got this far into the city."
The six mares shared nervous glances, but let him continue.
"Anyway, it's only in the Inner Districts that anypony really cares about what happens to one another, and that's because they have the money to afford the luxury. Even then, from what little I've seen of the upper crust I think it's all for show and social bravado."
He sighed with a great deal of dejection. "Sorry if I'm worrying any of you. I really don't mean to. It's hard to see at a glance since this city is difficult to live in, but it's still home. I'm going to do the best I can for you while you're under my care. It's my duty as an officer of the NPPD."
"And we appreciate it, don't we girls?" Twilight asked, looking to the others and receiving nods of approval.
Flathoof smiled and returned the nod. "At any rate, we're here."
He gestured to the massive domestic complex that would hold their new home, Southeast Point, so named because it marked the southeastern corner of Central Plaza. It was a great metal building one hundred stories tall and covering the entire city block. Twilight and her friends looked up in awe at the sheer size of it. She'd thought it was other buildings they'd been walking alongside for the past minute, not part of one.
While the place certainly looked habitable, it didn't look like it was in the greatest shape, and had little that lent to the image of "a decent place to live" as they'd been promised: the rust-colored metal looked more like actual rust; several of the windows were cracked or broken; all the awnings were faded and some were even a different color. It didn't look dilapidated, but it didn't look high-rise either by any means.
Considering the size of the place, Twilight calculated quickly in her head that this building—already far larger than the Royal Palace back home—likely housed as many ponies as the entire city of Canterlot if not more. If this was just one building then how big was the rest of the city? The sheer magnitude of such a population, far greater than she had first predicted from walking the streets of what had turned out to be just the outskirts of this large sub-sector, made her head spin.
More ponies living in this one city than lived in all of their own Equestria? Including their own big cities like Manehatten and Canterlot?
Impossible.
Large double doors led into the building, so it wasn't until they entered that they could see just the kind of place they'd be living. Twilight frowned as she quickly tried to readjust her earlier calculations. If the rest of the floors were organized anything like the lobby, then perhaps more ponies lived here than she initially thought. It was packed tight, and there was barely enough breathing room for everypony in the group as they walked down the main corridor past tiny crowds of other ponies coming and going from the building.
Flathoof directed them to follow him single-file, and at his guidance it didn't take long to locate the management office. At the reception counter sat an aged earth pony mare with a graying mane and tail. Her large, horn-rimmed glasses reminded Twilight of Rarity's pair back at home.
She barely bothered to turn her head up from the book she'd been reading to look at the newcomers. "Can I help you?"
Flathoof removed his hat and nodded. "Yes, I phoned earlier to see about speaking with Mister Lockwood. I spoke with a Spring Blossom."
"That would be me, sonny." She sighed and put her book down. "I'm assuming you're Captain Flathoof then? And these are the parolees you mentioned?"
The aging mare eyed the newcomers with what seemed like mild aversion. Twilight knew that she and her friends looked like they'd just picked their clothes out of a bin and walked out the door, which of course was exactly what had happened. They seemed all fitting enough but none of them looked particularly fashionable according to Rarity, even Rarity herself. Especially Rarity herself.
Twilight had picked out a cape and a sequined vest. The cape wasn't even fancy or decorated, just a dull blue like the vest, and it was much too tight for her liking. She didn't need to be reminded that it was a little too much like Trixie's—though not nearly as colorful or grandiose—but there weren't many other options.
Applejack had of course kept her stetson, and had picked out a plaid, brick red work shirt—which wasn't exactly clean—to go with it. It was a good fit. She looked like she belonged in a western, like the ones they sometimes filmed out of Appleloosa.
Rainbow had picked out a flight jacket, though it was a size too big for her and the sleeves nearly dragged along the floor as she stood there, and had been while they were walking. She was even wearing slightly-cracked goggles to complete the image.
Rarity had picked out a frilly, pale pink dress and accented it with a lilac ribbon that made her look the most traditionally-dressed in the bunch. It would possibly even be considered elegant were it made of a nicer material. They'd waited nearly half an hour for her to piece it together from different outfits, but that was just so Rarity that nopony really minded; of course, Rarity had still complained the whole time about how unacceptable it was.
Fluttershy had picked out a cute baby blue blouse and matching skirt that attracted a lot of attention for some reason, at least from what Twilight could tell, what with the way ponies through the streets had been looking her way with stunned expressions. Seeing as Fluttershy had been a model back home, perhaps it just accentuated her figure?
Pinkie's outfit was… unique. She'd leapt into the pile and taken a collection of utterly random articles that didn't match. The green propeller cap did not mesh with the black denim jacket with the popped collar, which did not work together with the gaudy yellow t-shirt with a logo that Flathoof said belonged to a comic series intended for foals, and then there were the red roller skates. Yes, unique. That was really the only way to describe it.
Spring Blossom, having looked over the outfits herself and clearly finding them just as odd as Twilight felt wearing them, cleared her throat and turned her attention back to Flathoof.
"I spoke with Mister Lockwood earlier," she said. "He's just finishing up a meeting with some other tenants and should be done in a few minutes, then he'll be right down. He asked me to inform you that he regrets any inconvenience caused by making you wait."
"That sounds like him," Flathoof chuckled.
She pointed off to the side, towards a room with a glass door with plenty of seats. "You can wait in the reception area until he gets here."
"Much obliged ma'am." Flathoof turned back to his entourage. "Come along, ladies. If I know Lockwood, he'll be down before too long."
He held the door to the reception area open for the six mares to enter, then followed them in.
"So, who is this Lockwood fellow?" Rarity asked as she fluffed the cushion of the seat she was taking. "An owner of this establishment perhaps? He must be a friend of yours."
"Just the landlord, but we go back a ways, yes," Flathoof said. He tugged at his collar and straightened his uniform again for the second time since they'd entered the complex. "We went to school together a long time ago, and he's been pretty close with my family since then."
"Well ain't that somethin'," Applejack said. "We lucked out in meetin' y'all then, I s'pose."
"Yes, I suppose you did. Anytime I've ever needed a favor, he's been the pony I went to see first. I don't know how much help he can give me here, but if he can't do anything directly he'll at least know somepony else who can. He's usually pretty good about that sort of thing."
"He sounds decent enough," Twilight said. "Any friend of yours can't be too bad, right?"
Applejack snorted. "Pfh, tell that to Snapshot. I ain't never met a pony with such an attitude before, but if Flathoof says she's on the level, I suppose we owe her some thanks."
Pinkie bounced rapidly up and down next to Rainbow, who was trying to take a nap on a pair of seats since Pinkie wasn't using hers. "I just hope he's not a super stuffy fuddy-duddy or anything! Then we'd have another guest for the party! Ooh! Does he like chocolate cake, or vanilla? I prefer strawberry myself, because it's pink and super duper tasty, just like me! Right, Dashie?"
"Yeah yeah, right Pinks." Rainbow paused a second, then bolted upright, wings slightly flared. "I mean, right, it's pink! You're pink!"
"I just hope he's nice…" Fluttershy mumbled. "I've had my fill of the other kinds of ponies for more than one day, I think."
A few moments passed, then a knock came at the reception room door and a pegasus with a rich gray coat walked in. He wore a brown rain jacket and fedora of a lighter shade than his mud-brown mane and tail, which were neatly combed and short. He wasn't particularly well-built, a little on the scrawny side actually, but had good posture and was neat and tidy.
The one thing—two things, really—that Twilight noticed most were his eyes, mostly because they were a rather odd shade of gold; she was reminded of the wall-eyed mailmare that serviced Ponyville, whose eyes were of a similar color.
"Ah, Lockwood!" Flathoof smiled, trotted over, and greeted his friend with a sturdy hoofshake. "So glad I was able to get a hold of you. I'm sorry I was so hasty on the phone, I was—"
"Yes yes, Flathoof," Lockwood replied, his smile wide and friendly. "Don't fret over it. I'm always willing to do a favor for you, you know that. Now then, these are the six mares you told me about?"
"Eyyup."
Lockwood looked out over the six mares briefly, giving them each a polite smile. "Utopia, eh? Fancy stuff. I'm surprised they even wanted to come here out of all the places in Equestria. I suppose I should feel honored."
"What kind of options are we looking at here, buddy? Please tell me you've got some good news for me."
"Hmm…" Lockwood tapped his chin, then gave a light-hearted shrug. "Well, you're in luck. We have some vacancies right now, actually. A few ponies here and there failed to pay their rent again, and there's only so much I can do when other ponies aren't willing to cooperate. Sad to say, but there it is."
"Eviction, huh? Can't be helped."
"Indeed. So, one of our larger rooms should accommodate them, but it wasn't actually designed for six so it might be a little… cozy, but it's the largest I've got available. Now then, as to the issue of payment—"
Flathoof made to interject, but Lockwood stopped him with a hoof. "I wouldn't ask right away, but I do have obligations to the owner. Gotta treat this completely legit, you understand? The building is only ten years old and he’s not even the original owner, so he's really watching the numbers to make sure it's a good investment."
Flathoof coughed and tugged his collar. "Well, not only are they new in town, but they don't exactly have any bits on them either. I always thought Utopia used bits too, but maybe I'm mistaken. I was hoping we'd be able to work something out here."
Lockwood pat Flathoof on the shoulder. "Say no more. There are enough loopholes in the city's tax code that I can probably work out something to get them their first month's rent reduced, at the very least until they find work. I'd suggest they start looking for jobs right away though. Does that sound reasonable?"
"Incredibly." Flathoof turned to the mares and grinned. "Right, ladies?"
"Oh, most definitely," Twilight said. "Thank you for your help, Mister Lockwood. We really appreciate it."
"Please, just Lockwood will do," Lockwood said. "I'm only 'Mister' when I'm doing real business, and this is a favor for my good friend Flathoof. I always take great pride in helping those I care about, and there's no exception here."
He clasped his hooves together. "Now then, before I show you all to your new abode and let you get adjusted and all that, I believe some introductions are in order. Seeing as I'll be your landlord for the next… however long you're at my fine establishment, I feel it'd be good to get to know you all a little better. As has been established, my name is Lockwood." He offered his hoof to Twilight. "And you are?"
"Introductions, yes, of course." Twilight nodded and politely shook his hoof in return. "I'm Twilight Sparkle, and these are my friends Applejack—"
"Howdy," Applejack said, grabbing and shaking Lockwood's hoof.
"Rarity—"
"Charmed." Rarity smiled and offered her hoof to Lockwood first. He smiled back and gave it a very dainty shake.
"Rainbow Dash—"
"Hey." Rainbow grabbed and shook Lockwood's hoof very briefly.
"Fluttershy—"
"Um, hello." Fluttershy nodded politely, but did not offer her own hoof and instead scuffed it nervously on the carpet.
"And—"
Pinkie pouted. "Heeey, why'd I have to go last this time?" Then, the pout turned into a huge grin. "Wait, that means I'm the grand finale! Woo!" She bounced a few times and pointed at Twilight triumphantly. "Saving the best for last, I like your way of thinking, Twilight!"
Twilight balked. "Uh…"
"Hiya, super-cool new friend!" Pinkie said, grabbing Lockwood's hoof with both of her own and shaking it—and him—vigorously. "I'm Pinkie Pie! I'm the bestest best party pony this side of the moon, and probably the other side too!"
As soon as Lockwood was back on solid ground, he straightened his jacket and laughed. "Such a colorful group. A pleasure to meet all of you." He smiled and pushed open the reception area door to usher them out. "Now then, let's go see your room, shall we?"
They followed Lockwood out of the reception area with Flathoof taking up the rear, and after a short trot down the entry hallway they entered the main stairwell and began the climb up several flights of steps to their new home.
Several floors later, Twilight and her friends were totally exhausted; Twilight didn't think anypony could keep climbing. Stair after stair, after stair, after stair, it seemed to go on forever and ever. The stairs were dusty, musty, and not at all pleasant, it was cramped and dry, and it was a long climb. Her appreciation for the generously given home was slowly beginning to diminish, as much as she hated to admit those kinds of thoughts.
Eventually it got to the point where her friends couldn't hold their tongues and clearly had to say something.
"Geez, what are we on, the eight-billionth floor?" Rainbow fluttered just barely above the stairs, and had been doing so for the past thirty floors. "I can't believe we're probably gonna have to do this every day. No wonder all the ponies around here look so fit."
"Are we there yet?"
"It is good exercise," said Lockwood, who seemed none the worse for wear. His stride hadn't diminished at all, and by now he was several steps ahead of the rest of them. "You'll get used to it soon enough. At least once you know where your room is, if one of your friends is home you can always just fly up to the window and they can let you in."
"Are we there yet?"
"Golly, I ain't had this kind of a work-out in ages." Applejack removed her hat and briefly fanned herself with it when they got to the top of the next flight, losing her position in the line to Twilight. "Doin' a lap or two up 'n' down should be the same as buckin' near half of Sweet Apple Acres in one go."
"Are we there yet?"
Rarity wheezed, completely out of breath. "I hate stairs…" She'd fallen totally behind, with Flathoof purposefully trailing just behind her to help her. "Hate… stairs… I'm going to… take out all the stairs… in my boutique… so many cobwebs… dust… stairs are dirty… hate stairs…"
"Are we there yet?"
"Um, phew…" Fluttershy definitely kept her response short not out of shyness but of desire to conserve breath.
"It's not so bad," Twilight said, huffing and puffing with every stair. Applejack had caught back up by now and passed her again. "I know I needed the exercise, that's for sure. Maybe not this much, but Spike was always saying I should get out more."
"Are we there yet?"
"I wish you'd told me they were this high up, Lockwood." Now, even Flathoof began to complain as they ascended yet another flight. "I don't get out as much as I did when I was on the beat. I can't believe I let you talk me into this."
"Are we there yet?"
"Me?" Lockwood chuckled. "I believe it was you who were calling in asking for a favor. Don't tell me you're getting tired back there, Mister 'Roughest Toughest Lawpony in Pandemonium'. Heh heh."
"Are we there yet?"
"PINKIE PIE!" Rainbow belted, snapping her head around to face the pink pony that had been literally bouncing up every single stair and wasn't showing any signs of stopping or tiring. "If you ask one more time—"
"We're here!" Lockwood exclaimed as he held Rainbow in place. He pointed at their door, where he read from a little gold plaque that read 84-5:00. "Room eighty-four and five. Those first two numbers are your floor number, the eighty-fourth. The third is your room position on the floor, which means you're in the five o'clock position."
"Well that's a pretty orderly numbering convention," Twilight said. "Though it's a little confusing with that last bit. You use a clock face to determine room numbers? Makes it easy to figure out your room if you forget the number I suppose."
"If only all the rooms were as neatly positioned as yours." Lockwood pointed at their neighbor's door, which read 84-6:30.
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Eighty-four and… six thirty? That's a bit confusing."
Lockwood shrugged. "The superintendent lives in room two and four twenty-eight. Not four thirty, not four twenty-five, but exactly twenty-eight, because that's where the door plaque is. Somepony made a mistake when they put it in, but the numbering scheme is what it is."
"That don't make a lick o' sense, if ya don't mind me sayin'," Applejack muttered.
"Oh goodness no, there's no rhyme or reason at all in it. I mean, they almost didn't even come to agreement on how to decide the twelve o'clock position in the first place. Somepony wanted the room closest to the stairwell on each floor to be the twelve o'clock room. Can you imagine? Every floor would be different!"
Twilight shook her head in disbelief. "Well why don't they just name the rooms by a simple numerical system?"
Lockwood shrugged. "Because nopony could agree on which room got to be room one, or if maybe it should be called zero-one, or if maybe we should start with zero-zero, or if we should call that double-zero, etc. A lot of things in this city don't make a lick of sense when you really look at them. So, either you just grin and bear it, or you save up the money to get a flight to Utopia or Hope's Point."
He looked at Twilight and raised an eyebrow. "Well now hang on, aren't you from Utopia? Why in heaven's name would you all want to leave? I've been trying to save up for a trip there for about five years now; it's everypony's dream destination. Warm beaches, sunny fields, clean air, you name it."
"My theory is they're actually refugees from the Wastelands. We just used that Utopia cover story to get through the paperwork," Flathoof explained. "Sorry for not mentioning it earlier. They don't look dangerous or anything, and they seemed like they needed a good home. I had to help, you understand."
"Hmm, yes, though they look a little too healthy to be refugees, in my opinion," Lockwood said, running his hoof under his chin.
Twilight gave him a nervous smile as he looked at her particularly. If only these two knew the truth, she thought. She couldn't exactly tell them without making her group sound like total lunatics.
Lockwood then shrugged and waved the thought off. "Well, if they are refugees, I'm more than willing to help them get back on their hooves and into a safer environment. At any rate, you all look tired. So ladies, without further adieu, your castle awaits."
He placed a key into the lock and pushed the door open, gesturing for them to enter. Their new home was… well, Lockwood had called it “cozy”, and he had said it wasn't really built for six ponies. That seemed all the more accurate once they got in. It was a fairly decent-sized apartment if two ponies were to share it, and even with three or four it would likely seem a little cramped but still very liveable. With six, it seemed more like a hovel than a home.
Still, it was free for now if Lockwood came through on his promises, and it was being generously given simply because they happened to meet the right two ponies. Luck was a finicky mistress, but sometimes she worked in mysterious ways.
"Ech…" Rarity blanched, still trying to catch her breath and shake cobwebs and dust from her mane and tail. "Ponies live in this filth? Please tell me this room just hasn't been cleaned recently… or ever. At least then I'll believe the mess I'm seeing here."
"Actually, that's true," Lockwood said. He took on a solemn tone and gestured towards one of the bedrooms. "We weren't allowed to clean up after the murder. The police wouldn't let us. I mean, it's already been a full day. We should be allowed to clean up, right Flathoof? Twenty-four hours is the policy, isn't it?"
The mares just stared at him in disbelief, jaws dropped. Fluttershy audibly whimpered and hid behind Applejack, clearly hoping the bigger, stronger mare would protect her from whatever might be lurking around the nearest corner.
Twilight couldn't believe what she'd just heard. Death was a natural thing in their world, of course, and even though she knew there were bad creatures back home that might inflict it upon others out of malice, she certainly didn't exactly expect that to be a common occurrence around here, at least not one that popped up in a casual conversation.
"Kidding!" Lockwood chuckled, waving his hooves defensively in front of him. "Just… just kidding. A joke! Ha ha? Oh come on, as if I'd give you a room that somepony'd been murdered in only a day before. Ha ha! Ha?" He frowned. "Okay no really, why isn't anypony laughing?"
Twilight gulped and tried to smile, finding it tremendously hard to do. "Is that something you have to deal with around here? We, uh, aren't really accustomed to that sort of thing."
"What, murder?" Flathoof frowned and adjusted his hat. "I wish I could say we never had to deal with it at all, but in fact it's quite the opposite. I think we've had maybe seven equicide calls this week, and that's a pretty low number. Sure, it's not the weekend yet, but— I'm not helping things am I?"
Lockwood interjected, as the whole group was looking more and more distressed. "Listen, this is the safest District in the whole city apart from the Inner Districts, but that's cheating to compare us to them. We haven't had anything like that happen at Southeast Point in months. And it wasn't anything like— wow, okay I'm not helping matters either."
Fluttershy sniffed and huddled in closer to Applejack and Rarity. "This place is s-scarier than I thought…"
Rarity rubbed Fluttershy's back and held the trembling pegasus close. "Now now, darling, I'm sure it'll all be okay. Come on, let's focus on getting our new home cleaned up a little, hmm? Take your mind off all those scary things."
Pinkie bounced excitedly around the room, sending up clouds of dust wherever she landed. "Yeah! We need to get all the decorations set up for our housewarming party! Let's see, I need streamers, balloons and, uh… hang on." She reached a hoof into her mane and pulled out a small notepad. "Streamers, balloons, and… aha! A cake, some ice cream, and soda pop. And then there's the candy, and the cookies, and a jukebox, and—"
"Pinks, we've got more important things to worry about. Besides, this place doesn't look like it would have room for one of your parties anyhow," Rainbow said, gesturing around the room.
Pinkie tapped her hoof to her chin and bit her tongue. "Hmm, are we talking about one of my Super Duper Awesome Big Birthday Bash Parties, or my Ultra Fun Best Friends Forever Parties? Because then well duh, I know we don't have room for either of those, silly. This feels more like an Everypony Welcome Home Party, though depending on the area of the room and the dimensions I have to work with, I might be able to fit in a Totally Amazing Radical Party, assuming that the room is a perfect square and that we have enough pi to go around."
Pinkie waggled her eyebrows at Dash as if expecting a laugh. Rainbow groaned loudly instead.
"Did Pinkie just invoke mathematics in party planning? And a math pun?" Twilight's eye began twitching. "How would that— what could you— is there even—" Her eyes crossed. "Oh dear, I think I'm getting a headache…"
"Besides, where am I gonna find a break-dancing floor at this time of night? Day? Whatever time it is." Pinkie laughed as she sidled up close to Rainbow and gave her a big hug. "Anyway, even if I can't fit in enough room for just a Little Itty Bitty Teeny Tiny Just Us Friends Housewarming Party, we can always have our own little private party later, Dashie! Always plenty of room for one of those!"
Rainbow turned red, wings puffing out just a little. "Pinkie, geez!" she hissed through clenched teeth.
Lockwood looked between the two of them. "What's all this talk about parties?"
"The pink one's special talent is throwing parties," Flathoof replied. "So, she likes parties. A lot. And singing. And dancing. And games. And parties, did I mention parties? Yes, we went over this a lot back at the station." He subtly twirled his hoof in a circular motion around his ear, taking care not to let her or her friends notice.
Twilight saw it.
And she agreed.
"Ahhh…" Lockwood nodded in total understanding. "Well, ladies, what say we start getting your home all spruced up, hmm?"
*****
Today had probably been the most stressful and tiresome day Snapshot had ever had to endure in her two years as a desk clerk for the NPPD. If Flathoof weren't such an eligible bachelor, she'd have passed the load on to a co-worker. All that work and hassle wasn't really worthwhile, but doing little favors like that here and there for Flathoof? She hoped it might get her in his good graces, so that maybe he'd want to get in her "good graces".
Snapshot sighed dejectedly as she eyed the clock on the wall. One more hour. That's how much longer it was for her to finish her shift at this droll job. Then she could get back home where she could relax, have some much-needed alone time, and try to get some work done on her reading. Specifically, a rather steamy novel she'd picked up at Blazing Saddles—a completely reputable establishment, by the way—by the name of Fifty Shades of Hay.
She eyed the mare working at the desk to her right, a pink pegasus with a tacky dye job that gave her silvery white mane streaks of gold. Firecracker.
Snapshot wished the blasted mare would just up and fly away and never darken these halls again with her bow-legged, hip-swaggering, eyelash-batting, obviously-had-a-wing-job self. The hussy was always stealing all the good-looking stallions in the department, letting them rut her, getting them to put some good words in with higher-ups to get a pay raise, then leaving the saps behind.
It wasn't fair. Snapshot knew that she had seen Sergeant Goldenstar first, that she had been flirting with him so casually in the breakroom, and that she had asked him out! Firecracker had even been sitting just a table or two away in the cafeteria when she did it! And then the jerk went and broke it off at the last second, after Snapshot had gone through hours of making herself look presentable, attractive, nay, desirable.
The next day, he was over there at Firecracker's desk, playing with her mane and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. Just the first in the long line of stallions she'd seen at that desk, and it was always a different one!
Snapshot sighed in dejected disapproval. It was her own fault, really. Ever since she made it on the force she'd been trying to get the attention of one of the stallions around the department, and learned the hard way that most of them were really not worth her time: crooks, liars, cheats, sneaks, and perverts, the lot of them! She was desperate, but not that desperate.
There were only a few stallions left on the entire force that were worth any attention, at least physically and mentally, but they just had to be in relationships already. That was just the way things worked, wasn't it though? That all the good-looking, well-mannered stallions were the ones taken?
Except one. And he didn't seem interested at all in anypony, and hadn't been for as long as she'd known him. Of all the rotten luck, that the most good-hearted and certainly broadest stallion in the entire force was just not looking for a special somepony.
Snapshot would give anything for Flathoof to look at her the way she looked at him, and cursed the fact that she'd probably drifted so far into the friend zone by now that she'd need a map and three weeks of supplies just to find her way back out.
"Oh Captain, my Captain…" Snapshot muttered to herself, pressing her face into her desk.
As much as she wanted him to be hers, she knew that being hopeful and ignoring other opportunities was worse than trying to find love elsewhere. Flathoof did have that good-looking brother after all, crippled though he may be, and he always seemed to give her these little looks whenever she was invited over for dinner that let her know he noticed her as well.
The family had good genes, which just sent all sorts of signals to her brain that she had to push down and remind that it was too early to start thinking of foal names. Though she liked the sound of Jazzhoof if it was a colt, in keeping with their family tradition.
The doors of the office slid open, and a pegasus strode into the room, his steps measured and confident. With each stride, his lithe muscles pressed against his impeccable black suit. A perfectly straight, black tie tucked neatly into his jacket. His sleek, pale blue coat caught the light of the room just right causing it to almost ripple in the glare.
With a single smooth motion, he slicked his dark-blue mane back with a hoof and flexed his long wings. He took one brief look around the room, eyeing the two mares in front of him.
Then, by stepping forward towards Snapshot's desk, he quite literally walked into her life. Was her hair straight? No smudges on her glasses? Her breath was okay, wasn't it?
"You must be Officer—" The well-dressed pegasus looked at a report file he had open, then glanced back at her. "Snapshot, correct?"
"Uh-huh," she murmured dreamily. She quickly shook her head. "I mean, ahem. Y-yes, that's me. How can I help you, Mister…?"
He showed her his badge, which had his name on it with a badge number and everything. Snapshot knew she'd recognized that uniform. If all of the CIA's agents looked this good, maybe she'd consider applying sometime after she had more to work with on her resume. She certainly had the broad knowledge of the system's inner workings that she knew was one of their requirements. All she lacked was experience.
"Sparkwalker. Agent Sparkwalker," he said. "I'm with the Committee Investigation Agency. I need to speak with you about a recent registration you filed in regards to some suspicious information."
"Oh? Which one?
"Which six."
Sparkwalker plopped the report file on her desk, allowing her to see all the contents. Snapshot's eyes widened. Wow, the CIA sure works fast.
It felt as though those six mares had just left; the paperwork had literally been teleported to the NPRD not more than three or four hours ago. Snapshot had never heard of anything that made the CIA this interested, and that worried her. What if Flathoof was in trouble, and these six mares were criminals? Terrorists? Spies?
"I recognize them, yes," she said, mirroring his quiet tone. "What kind of information do you need?"
"Is there somewhere more private we can talk?" he asked.
She couldn't be positive, but she was certain he had darted his eyes to look at Firecracker to be sure she hadn't heard anything. The sunglasses he was wearing prevented Snapshot from following his gaze clearly. Why was he wearing sunglasses indoors? It wasn't that bright in here. Maybe that was part of the uniform?
But why was she worrying about that? He wanted the two of them to be alone. Sure, okay, it was part of an investigation, but she still got the feeling that this was going to be her lucky day.
Ah, opportunity, how loud your knock can be, she thought.
"Certainly. Follow me."
She waved for him to follow her towards the back of the clerk office. The pegasus followed her into the staff room, and after making sure nopony was coming this way, she closed and locked the door behind them.
The room was meant for lunch breaks and such, but it felt more like a private office, and it was certainly used for more than just lunch breaks. Firecracker sometimes forgot to lock the door when she and one of the other officers were… filing a report together. Luckily the room was soundproof and had tinted windows, so Snapshot had only accidentally walked in a few times.
Ah, privacy.
"So, what's this all about?" she asked, taking a seat in the cozy chair on one side of the office.
Agent Sparkwalker remained standing for the moment, near enough that she could actively drink in all his features as he reached into his suit pockets. He took out a small notepad, set it on the table just out of her sight, then sat a pen upon that.
Business before pleasure.
Sparkwalker took a seat directly across from her and picked up his notepad with one wing, his pen with the other. Snapshot found herself impressed that a pegasus could do something so delicate with his wings.
Hopefully that's not the only thing he can do with those.
"The Committee is concerned about the status of their case file," he said, shaking her out of her thoughts. "It would seem that Police Chief Smokestack applied for a bonus that arrived barely five minutes after these six forms came in. Normally, this wouldn't be too troubling. He does this kind of thing all the time, does he not?"
She pointed a hoof at herself. "Are you asking me? I don't get involved much with the Chief's financial affairs."
"Hmm." Sparkwalker nodded and jotted down a short note. Snapshot was suddenly nervous that that piece of information had been important. "No matter, this is about these six Ponies of Interest anyway. Our department is concerned with the speed at which their forms were filed, and we suspect that perhaps Chief Smokestack was rushing things along and may have overlooked things concerning them."
"Oh dear…"
"Now, your name is on the form as the Identification Photographer and as their File Clerk, so I believe it's safe to assume you had some interaction with them?"
"Ah, yes, I did." She was now extremely nervous that he would learn that she'd sped the paperwork along at Flathoof's request, not the Chief's. Would he get in trouble?
"If it's okay with you then, I'd like to ask you a few questions about them. You can tell me some details about them, yes?"
"I hope so. What's this all about anyway? I mean, not to pry—"
"Committee business. Classified."
"Please? A fellow officer that I know is their parole officer. I want to make sure he'll be okay, sir. Anything you can tell me will do."
Sparkwalker stared at her, but with those sunglasses on his face it was hard to tell. "His name?"
"Flathoof. Captain Flathoof."
"I'll make sure to take care of him should the need arise." He cracked his neck before continuing, "Now then, let's start at the top according to the order you filled the forms out, based on your time-stamps. First, Twilight Sparkle. What can you tell me about her?"
"Real bossy, seemed well-educated," Snapshot said. She didn't bother hiding a slight sneer. "Probably the brains of the group, if you ask me." She put a hoof to her lips. "Oh, I'm sorry, I know I'm not supposed to figure my personal opinions into this."
Sparkwalker smiled and nodded appreciatively. "While I didn't ask, your information is invaluable and could help our investigation. Please, feel free to relax and speak candidly. It may help us understand the psyche of these six, you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"And drop the 'sir' nonsense. Just Sparkwalker, if you please, Snapshot."
She turned pink and tried to hide her smile behind a hoof. "R-right. Sparkwalker."
They were already on a first-name basis. She wasn't used to the idea of a CIA agent being so informal. That was supposed to be a major part of their job, being rigid and uncooperative. But maybe this one liked her? Maybe if she played her cards right she'd have plans tonight.She absently started to wonder what he looked like out of the uniform.
Snapshot continued, more candidly as asked. "Well, she was kind of a busybody, asking all sorts of questions about the city. I mean, sure, I guess that makes sense if you're not from around here, but the others weren't quite as interested. They just left the work to her."
"So in your opinion, she might be the ringleader?"
"If I were to have a guess, yes. She also said she used to work as a librarian, so she'll probably look for work at the CDH or something similar." A brief pause, then: "I put in a recommendation at, uh, the Chief's request," she lied.
Sparkwalker nodded and jotted down more notes. "Hmm. Go on then, the next pony, Rarity. She appears to be posing for this picture?"
"Yeah, she insisted on making it a glamour shot," Snapshot said. "I'll be fair, it weren't for the stupid jumpsuit she'd look great. Really snooty though, and she seemed like a neat-freak. She insisted that she was a fashion designer back home which struck me as odd."
"How so?"
"Well, they weren't wearing any clothes when they got arrested according to the report. I mean, who ever heard of a fashion designer wandering around naked? Contradictory, right? You'd think she'd be wearing something at all times even if they don't usually wear clothes where they're from. Self-advertisement, that kind of thing?"
"A keen observation and a valid critique. Let's see, next is Fluttershy. She looks like she didn't want to take the picture at all. Did she give you a hard time?"
Snapshot laughed and waved her hoof playfully. "Oh brother, was she ever uncooperative."
"She was rude?"
"Oh no, I just had to ask every question at least twice to be able to hear her responses. She was really quiet and always tried to avoid making eye contact."
"Not somepony I'd expect to be a threat. But then you know the saying? 'It's always the quiet ones'?"
Snapshot nodded, worried that it might be true and Flathoof might be in danger.
He gestured for her to continue. "Go on then, tell me more about her."
"Well, she was kind of cute in a way, so she probably gets a lot of lookers back where she comes from. Said she was a veteran-arian, whatever the hay that is. Something to do with military veterans? Does Utopia even have a military?"
"Animals."
"An army of… animals?" Snapshot raised an eyebrow and nervously smiled. "Please tell me you're kidding."
Sparkwalker blinked, then laughed. "Oh, no no, she's a veterinarian. They're like doctors, but for animals instead of ponies." He jotted that all down. "Moving on then. Pinkie Pie. Is she doing the crossed-eyes on purpose, or does she have some sort of condition?"
"Yes, on purpose. And what a mouth that one's got. Just would not shut up." She lifted a hoof and started shaking it around. "Yap yap yap yap yap. Not right in the head that one, but she made me a little suspicious, and not just because she seemed a few cards short of a full deck."
Sparkwalker leaned forward. "Oh? Go on."
"Well, while everypony else in the group said they were from Utopia right away, and Twilight Sparkle even added their ridiculous district or village or whatever into it. Pfft, Ponyville. Still makes me laugh."
"Ponyville is pretty ridiculous, isn't it?"
"Anyway," she continued, "Pinkie Pie kind of hesitated a little. It was a really subtle pause, so I wouldn't have noticed it if she hadn't been such a motor mouth otherwise. Now that I think about it, so did that orange one, Applejack was it?" Snapshot asked.
Sparkwalker nodded.
"Well, she didn't say Utopia right away either. Makes me think maybe their story isn't as true as they claim. Nothing gets past my sleuth sense." She smiled, crossed her hooves, and leaned back in her chair, feeling very proud of herself.
"Very astute. I'll make note of your suspicions." Sparkwalker gave her a polite smile. "You've been very helpful so far Snapshot, thank you."
She frowned. "Oh, are we done?"
"Oh no, not quite yet, just thought I'd thank you for being so helpful to my investigation."
He tilted his sunglasses down slightly so that she could see him wink. Snapshot turned red and coughed into her hoof. She felt rather embarrassed that he was pushing all the right buttons, and a little nervous that he knew what buttons to push. For half a second, she felt anxious about this whole thing. Was this the right thing to do?
"Now then, the next one. Rainbow Dash?"
"Really full of herself, big ego, took everything I said as a challenge," Snapshot said, trying to regain her composure. "The fastest flier in Equestria? Really? That I find difficult to believe. When I said as much, she got a little riled up like she wanted to prove it right then and there."
"Well, looks can be deceiving."
"I suppose, but her response to my asking about it was to say that she's the only pony to ever pull off a 'Sonic… Rainboom'? What the hay is that? Some sort of sonic boom mixed with a rainbow or something? How would you even do that? Seems physically impossible to me, and kind of convoluted."
"Cool name though."
"I guess. Anyway, if you look under her aliases I noted 'Dashie' as a nickname rather than a preferred name. The pink pony kept calling her that, and was the only pony doing it that I could see. I got kind of a weird vibe from the two, like maybe they're more than friends?"
Sparkwalker nodded intently at that point and jotted extra lines. "Possible sexual interrelations. Interesting. Did any of the others exhibit similar attachment?"
"Not that I could tell."
"Well, one more then. Tell me more about this Applejack."
"Don't even get me started on her," Snapshot said, sticking her nose in the air. "Urgh, I saw the way she was looking at Flathoof, n-not that that matters," she added so that Sparkwalker wouldn't get the wrong idea.
Even if it was the right idea, she didn't want him to think it was.
"He's my friend is all, so I don't want to see him get hurt because some Utopian jezebel gives him that look and thinks she can just waltz in and flutter her eyelashes and land the most prized stallion in the NPPD in her bed when I've been—
"Anyway," she continued, coughing into her hoof again, "she seemed honest enough and looked pretty tough. She didn't have any problem answering everything straight away, except that Utopia bit I mentioned earlier."
"Yes, very good." He nodded appreciatively as he wrote down the last few notes, then glanced into the folder of reports again. "I understand they also filed domicile registration forms? You wouldn't happen to have a copy of them anywhere, would you?"
"Oh, sorry, I don't have one." She frowned and rubbed her temple. "They didn't get that to you yet? That must mean it's still in processing. Your department should get it by tonight, I hope. I'm surprised the other forms got to you guys so soon, actually. I've never heard of paperwork being processed so quickly."
"I was hoping I could get a copy sooner than that," he said. "We are in hot pursuit of these mares, you see. The faster I can find out where they are or where they may be headed, the faster I can find out what exactly they're doing here."
Snapshot frowned. If Agent Sparkwalker was delayed, it might be putting Flathoof at risk, and she didn't like the fact that she would be partly responsible. As much as she was attracted to this new pony, she still cared for Flathoof dearly and wanted to make sure nothing happened to him.
She nodded. "I can remember some of the things on the forms I filled out. Not every detail, but I assume anything would help, right?"
"Most assuredly," he said. "Any assistance you can give me in my investigation will be greatly appreciated."
"Well, I remember a name. Southeast... P-something. Park? Place?"
"Point?"
Snapshot pointed a hoof at him in acknowledgement.
Sparkwalker jotted the name down on his notepad. "Southeast Point. I recognize the name. Suspicious that they would be able to get a room so quickly in the busiest, most expensive part of the District, and with an arrest record even."
Snapshot frowned again. She had to come clean on this one. "Well, Captain Flathoof is the one who helped them get it. He said he had a friend who was the landlord. Lockwood, I think. He was just trying to help, so I don't think he suspects anything about them."
"Hmm, perhaps they've fooled your good friend better than you thought. I have just a few more questions. First, apart from what you mentioned specifically about them individually, did you notice anything suspicious about them as a group?"
"Well, like I said, their home sounded a little odd. I mean, Ponyville? Has to be a made-up name, and a really lame one at that."
He gave her a knowing smile. "So you don't think they're from Utopia?"
She nervously tapped her hooves together. "Well, I mean… no, I don't. But where else could they be from? The Wastelands? Like refugees or raiders?" she said, though she was still suspicious and knew that appearances could be deceiving. "They seemed healthy enough, at least physically.
"Still, I mean, how could they be from Utopia? They'd have had to take an airship, and they would've been told they needed clothes. Plus, I know we don't just give out identifications, but the NPRD has a station at the Gate. How'd they get past it and into the city? It's right by the airport; you have to walk through it to get into the city."
"Valid observations." Sparkwalker smiled as he wrote down additional notes, then replaced the notepad and pen into his pockets. "Our department was thinking the same; we just needed confirmation. You'd make a fine addition to the CIA one day, were you ever so inclined," he added with a wink. "Anything else you can tell me?"
She shook her head. "I'm afraid I've given you all I can."
"Very well. So, one final question."
"Yes?"
Sparkwalker leaned forward in his chair and smoothly reached out a hoof to take hold of her own. She looked briefly at the point of contact, then swiftly back to him. He tilted his sunglasses, exposing his eyes fully at last, and gave her a smoky look and a flirtatious smirk. "When do you get off?"
"I… beg your pardon?"
She must have misheard that. No, he still had that coy grin on his face, like he was trying to remove her uniform with his eyes. It made her feel anxious. Vulnerable. Wanted.
He leaned further forward and wheeled his chair along with him so that their faces were close together. "You must get lonely, working these late nights here at the police station day after day. Exhausting work. You must crave the feeling of release when your shift is up."
"I… s-suppose."
She blushed a deep red, trying her best to keep her cool. Too fast. This was happening too fast. Should she feel worried? Relieved? She'd given up opportunities worse than this for dumber reasons, and she was not about to pass up this stallion just because she felt it was a little too impulsive.
Sparkwalker smiled and removed his sunglasses, neatly placing them into the jacket of his tidy black suit. She became slightly distracted by getting to see his eyes in full. A vivid green, very pretty. She almost didn't hear him speak, but then again she wasn't paying much attention to his words so much as his actions.
Was she daydreaming again? Had all that flirting been real? She was worried she was looking for signals that weren't there, or that he was just using the advances to try and weasel more information out of her, a tactic she admitted worked even if it wasn't intentional.
"You look so pent up," he said, his breath hot on her neck. "So tense. Please, allow me to help ease that tension, even if for just a moment."
Strong hooves on her shoulders, keeping her in place. A tender caress. This was so sudden, too sudden. But she didn't want it to stop, he was so perfect and she was so willing. She chose to forgo any sense of worry. Any sense of wondering, "why would a stallion like this be interested in me?" was completely gone. She couldn't care any less.
He was doing so much with those hooves of his that she'd completely fallen out of her reality and became entranced in this living fantasy, such that nothing mattered anymore. It was not her first kiss, but it may as well have been. He was so delicate, not at all rough, sloppy, or dulled like some of her previous coltfriends had been. She barely even noticed him unfastening his tie, or unbuttoning her uniform. Things were moving so fast. They'd only just met.
It was just like one of her steamy romance novels. The suave spy flies in and sweeps the bookish secretary off her hooves, rescuing her from her tedious, bored life and bringing her to new heights of excitement. Right from beginning, to the now-middle, and she was hoping soon, the end.
"Mmph~" She moaned into his kiss. "B-but… I hardly even—"
"If you want to think of this as your dream come true, then by all means," he whispered, giving a low laugh that made her heart flutter.
It's like he knows.
Sparkwalker roughly pulled her out of her chair, and she found herself pinned heavily on the floor of the office on top of the rounded floral-patterned rug. She'd never been more glad that the door was locked and that the windows were tinted. Her glasses fogged at his hot breath, and for a moment she forgot herself and found she was unable to resist pleading for his advances, her own hooves gripping at his mane and chest.
She could feel his smile on her neck. Taste his voice.
"One last thing, Snapshot."
"Y-yes, w-what?"
"Have you told anypony else what you've told me here today?"
"N-nopony. Please, b-be gentle…"
"No promises."
First, she felt the tenderness of a kiss upon her neck.
Then, a blade abruptly pierced her carotid artery.
Now, a severe, blinding pain. A hoof over her mouth silenced a muted scream. She looked up into his heartless green eyes, into his sadistic smile. His coat and mane colors dulled. No, that was her vision doing that. It started to fade into black. The blood loss was making her woozy. She tried to buck out of his grip, but she couldn't find the strength. She tried to cry out for help, but no sound came. The agony was unbearable. It bled far beyond physical pain.
She felt like she'd just committed some great sin. And, by thinking she was helping him, she felt she'd likely just endangered the one pony she now wished she'd never been distracted from.
Flathoof… I…
"Shhhhh." He cooed into her ear and stroked her mane. "It'll allll be over soon, my little shutterbug. Shhh. Now, be a sweetheart for me, and just close your eyes. That's a good girl."
Snapshot's eyes dimmed as the last of her life drained away in a pool of blood on the rug, staining it a deep, dark red.
Chapter Four: Catalyst
Twilight and Flathoof stood in the hall outside room eighty-four and five. They'd come out moments before, as the room itself had become much too cramped for them to bear, what with eight ponies trying to organize an apartment that was meant to house four. From outside, it was still easy enough for Flathoof to keep an eye on his parolees without bothering their move-in.
So, when Twilight requested a conversation with him away from the others, he'd obliged without question. Of course, she hadn't realized that her topic of conversation wasn't going to be met with that same cordiality.
"Let me get this straight," Flathoof said, sighing and holding the bridge of his nose. "You want to leave your friends here to tidy up your new home because you want to go to Central Database Holdings? And you want to go right now?"
"That's right," Twilight said. "I figured it would be a good idea to start looking for… work, and as soon as possible, so I want to take a look at their facility and get used to their system a little before I apply. Officer Snapshot was nice enough to put in a recommendation, and even if she only did it because of you I still plan to use it."
"That's not what I have a problem with. It's that you seem to think I'm going to just let you go out on your own."
Twilight rubbed the back of her head, knowing that was likely going to be the hard part to negotiate. "Well, I just didn't want to bother anypony else with my errands. I can get a bit absorbed in my work sometimes."
She elected not to mention that she was going to spend most of her time at the library doing what libraries were intended for: studying. Specifically, researching this perplexing new location as much as she could. What little she could gather from talking with Flathoof and Lockwood was not enough to quench her curiosity, nor enough to figure out what she'd need to know to get her and her friends home.
She had planned to take as long as she needed, but hadn't accounted for requiring an escort.
Flathoof shook his head and sighed. "While that is all well and good, Miss Sparkle, and I commend you for taking some initiative in looking for employment, I can't just let you go by yourself. You're on parole for one week, remember? Until then, all of you have to remain in my custody. So, if you want to visit the library, you'll have to wait until after everypony here is done so you can all go."
Twilight's face fell. "Oh. I was hoping to get a head-start on it."
Truthfully, she wanted to do it with as few distractions as possible. If she were allowed to "get in the zone" and start her research by herself without any interference from her friends, she hoped she would be able to get plenty of information in very little time.
Not that she didn't appreciate their company, but some of her friends weren't exactly the best study partners. Rarity and Fluttershy might be of help, and if the right subject matter was involved she could probably rope Rainbow into it too. Pinkie could be a help or a hindrance—it was all up to chance—and Applejack just wasn't the researching type. She didn't want to force them all to go.
"I am sorry, Miss Sparkle, but rules are rules," Flathoof said.
Twilight sighed. "I understand…"
The door fell open, and a gray form tumbled out onto the dirty carpet of the hallway. Twilight, shocked at the sudden intrusion and with everything lousy going on, leapt a good foot into the air and lit up her horn defensively.
After shaking himself off with a slight huff, Lockwood got back to his hooves and addressed the two surprised ponies with a sheepish grin. "Um… ow?"
Flathoof narrowed his eyes at the new addition to the conversation; he didn't seem at all surprised that Lockwood was there. "Snooping as usual, Lockwood?"
Lockwood brushed off his jacket with a wing. "Now now, Flathoof, surely you don't intend on keeping this young lady from trying to make her way in the world, do you?"
"I don't think this is something you can help with. This is my duty as their parole officer. I have to keep them all in my sight, as much as I'd like to think I can trust them. It's a stupid rule, I know, but it's there."
"So why do it alone? Surely you could get some help?"
"Look, I know it's a two- or three-pony job, but I can't expect any other officers to jump at the opportunity to foalsit a bunch of new citizens. Not that I trust many of them to do the job anyway, or not to try anything fishy."
"Perfectly understandable," Lockwood said. He pointed his hoof teasingly at Flathoof. "But, you seem to be forgetting that there is somepony you can trust to keep an eye on them. Somepony who's always willing to lend a helping hoof, and not just to his closest friends but to anypony in need."
"You?" Flathoof said, his eyes half-lidded.
"Of course!" Lockwood grinned as he straightened his jacket collar in mock offense. "Sheesh, who did you think I meant? Some random pedestrian out on the street?"
"Lockwood, this isn't a game. I know you like to help and all, but rules are rules, and as much as most other officers wouldn't have a problem breaking them, I do."
Twilight took a deep breath and relaxed. Too many surprises today had put her on edge. "But didn't you break some rules in getting us through all this?" she asked.
"'Break'? Nnnope." Flathoof nervously tugged his collar and glanced at Lockwood's cheeky grin. "I mean, okay, city regulations have so many loopholes and workarounds that, well, a pony with the knowledge of how it works could probably get around them. Snapshot happened to know just the right boxes to fill and marks to make."
"Just like the tax code loopholes I'm going to be working around to get my new tenants a solid start without paying first month's rent immediately," Lockwood added, playfully nudging Flathoof in the ribs. "And you know all about that too, don't you? Don't be such a hypo—"
"Okay, fine," Flathoof interrupted. He took a deep breath. "I guess if I've abused a few loopholes here and there already, no harm in going the full mile."
Lockwood beamed and gave Twilight a sly wink. "Precisely! I'm sure there is something you can conjure up to let somepony you trust be an additional caretaker for these lovely young ladies? Unless…"
"'Unless'… what?"
Lockwood narrowed his eyes and his smile broadened. "Unless, you were planning on keeping them all to yourself?"
Flathoof stammered, "H-hey now, don't accuse me of that kind of—"
"Aww, you sly pony you!" Lockwood placed his leg around Flathoof's shoulder. "I should've figured it out from the get-go. I didn't think you had it in you after all these years. Which one is it then? I'm guessing… is it Miss Sparkle here?"
"What?!"
"What?" Twilight asked, utterly lost.
"Well, what with the whole 'trying to keep her in my sights' thing, I figured—"
"It's not Miss Sparkle!"
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "What's not me? What are you two—"
Lockwood laughed heartily. "Oh ho ho, I see! Suddenly you fancy yourself a ladies' stallion, and saw the opportunity to flaunt yourself in front of six eligible—"
"Enough!" Flathoof blurted. He took a deep breath and straightened his hat. "Fine, what did you have in mind, if it'll shut you up with these ridiculous ideas of yours?"
"Well I'm not too well-versed in NPPD rules, really. That's supposed to be your department. There must be some sort of workaround that would allow a civilian to assist you in tending to your parolees, though? Like a… deputy or something like that?"
"Well…" Flathoof mused. "I suppose I could list you as a third-party caretaker. It wouldn't really be questioned either, seeing as you're their landlord and all." He rolled his eyes and sighed. "Fine, have it your way. You always do."
"Excellent."
"I'll have to contact the station and get Snapshot to file the paperwork. I need to get a good signal, so I'll be just over here," Flathoof continued, pointing at the nearby window on the opposite end of the hall
"Go right ahead."
Flathoof trotted over to the window, loosened the latch, and opened it. Then, after a quick look outside, he began talking into the walkie-talkie strapped to his right foreleg; Twilight couldn't hear the conversation, though.
While Flathoof was occupied, Twilight took the opportunity to converse with Lockwood. "Thank you. Both of you. I don't know what we'd do without your help. We were all in rather dire straits, and nopony else in this city—"
"Say no more, Miss Sparkle." Lockwood gave her a wide smile and patted her on the shoulder. "Believe me when I say I know just how unhelpful most of my fellow citizens can be. We're a rare breed, ponies like Flathoof and I. It's why we're such good friends!"
"It's a wonderful thing to have in common," Twilight said, thinking fondly on the bond she and her friends shared.
"And I've formed similar relationships with many of the ponies in this city and even some elsewhere, all of whom I feel I can give a similar level of respect and trust to."
"How many ponies do you know?" Twilight asked. "My friend Rarity is quite popular where we come from. I don't even know half the ponies she does."
"Oh a great deal of ponies, believe me," Lockwood said. He feigned exhaustion, as if knowing so many individuals was a physically taxing endeavor, earning a light smile from her.
Twilight pursed her lips in thought and tapped her chin. "This city seems so vast, how could anypony possibly hope to know so many?"
Lockwood beamed and flittered his wings proudly. "All it takes is one good friend, and you can move from there. You'd be surprised who your friends know, and who your friends' friends know, and so on."
"Makes sense."
"I know ponies from all walks of life, in fact. Take this building's owner, for example. Rich folk like him always appreciate a good, resourceful pony, so he'll be willing to look the other way when I give a vacant apartment to a bunch of parolees I just met. And not all of my friends are upper-class, either. Some are less… reputable than others, but they're handy when I need a favor,."
Twilight gulped. "You mean… like criminals?"
Her eyes nervously darted back and forth. It was bad enough that Lockwood had joked about murder earlier, but now he was claiming to be acquainted with criminals? Just who was this pony?
"Oh no, no no no, not at all," he dismissed with a rapid wave of a hoof. He then stopped and hung his head. "Well, okay, technically some of my friends are considered criminals by the system, but I assure you that their crimes aren't harmful to anypony. No murderers or thieves or anything like that. They're just guilty of some crimes against our city's wonderful government," he added.
His mouth bore a sneer, and his eyes had narrowed at that one word. Government.
"You could say their crimes are doing as I do: helping others by getting around the way the city's backwards and sideways and upside-down laws work. Falsifying documents, illegally obtaining goods such as medicine, that sort of thing. But, we can discuss that another time, if you'd like."
Over by the window, Flathoof could be heard finishing his call, clicking his walkie-talkie with a hoof, and turning back towards the apartment door. Lockwood pointed off in that direction. "Oh, here comes Flathoof. Don't mention my… other friends to him. He might not approve, you understand?"
Twilight nodded. "R-right."
She was sure Lockwood was on the up-and-up, but now she was slightly concerned about taking his offers for assistance. It wouldn't get them in any more trouble, would it? No, surely not. After all, he was clearly somepony who worked around the system often himself, and he was still considered respectable enough that he was close friends with a high-ranking police officer.
Right?
"So," Flathoof said as he stomped over, "I just got off the line with the station. I wish we'd thought of this sooner, because I could have asked Snapshot to take care of it while we were there and it'd be done by now. She got off duty maybe an hour or so ago, and the silly filly forgot to punch out again."
"That won't be a problem, will it?" Twilight asked.
"No, the night shift guy will fill everything out and get it done, because even he knows not to shirk duties given from ranking officers. I'm more concerned about it being done right. I'll get Snapshot to look it over tomorrow."
"So then, we can go?" Twilight asked, a hopeful grin on her face.
"Yes yes, we can go," Flathoof said.
Twilight excitedly clapped her hooves together. "Excellent! I can't wait to see this library. I wonder if it's anything like the one back home?"
Flathoof shook his head, but kept a smile on his face. "You're sure you can handle the rest of them, Lockwood?"
Lockwood looked into the apartment and watched as Rarity helped Fluttershy dust some of the cabinets in one corner of the room. Rainbow and Applejack helped one another rearrange the furniture, though the two were debating on where the couch they were carrying should go.
Lockwood shook his head, worry-free. "I don't think—"
Pinkie tripped over a rug and dropped the dusty mats she'd been carrying. They flew all over the room, spreading dust over everypony and everything. Rarity squealed in horrified disgust, Fluttershy started to cry, and Rainbow began to scold the pink earth pony openly. Applejack just hung her head in disappointment.
Lockwood chuckled and tugged his collar. "Uh… I don't think it will be too much trouble."
Flathoof laughed and slapped Lockwood on the back. "I hope you know what you're getting yourself into. Come on, Miss Sparkle. We'll leave my good-mannered companion to tend to his new-found flock."
The pair turned towards the stairwell to leave, but were stopped by a voice behind them.
"Now hang on just one doggone minute." Applejack stepped in front of the two of them, her eyes darting between the pair. "If y'all're takin' a little stroll, perhaps ya wouldn't mind if I joined ya?"
"You want to join us?" Twilight blinked and gave Applejack a quizzical look. "We're going to the library, Applejack. It's not a place you'd usually volunteer to go, if you don't mind my saying."
Applejack narrowed her eyes. "You sayin' I ain't got no book smarts?"
A pause. "Do you really want me to answer that question?"
Applejack gave an aggravated sigh and shook her head. "Nevermind. I'm just worried about ya goin' by yerself."
"I'm not going alone, Applejack. I've got Captain Flathoof with me," Twilight said, patting the stallion on the shoulder. "He's in law enforcement, remember? He'll keep me safe. No need to worry or—"
Applejack stomped her hoof and gave Twilight an indignant look. "I know that, Twi, I just wanna keep an eye on ya, that's all. And to be honest, I don't think I can take much more of Rarity's complainin' about the dust 'n' dirt. If she starts whinin', well, I won't be held responsible for what might happen."
Twilight raised an eyebrow and nodded, beginning to get the idea that it might be better not to argue. "Oh, well okay then. If that's alright with you, Captain Flathoof?"
"I don't know why it wouldn't be." Flathoof shrugged and walked past Applejack towards the stairs. "Very well then, come along Miss Applejack. I suppose we could use the company."
Applejack smiled. "Thank ya kindly."
*****
"That's a library?" Applejack whistled. "This place is—"
"Huge," Twilight completed.
Central Database Holdings was a large building, taking up not one, not two, but four full city blocks. While not as tall as Southeast Point, it still towered over the ponies walking the streets below. Lines of pulsing, neon blue lights highlighted the contours of the building's black metal exterior, from the edges of the structure to the indents that dotted it. Many of the lines flowed towards the largest indent on the front of the structure, indicating the entrance.
Twilight gulped. "If the dimensions are what I think they are, Applejack, then this building's bigger than all of Ponyville proper. Excluding Sweet Apple Acres of course."
The newer, shinier metals looked out of place compared to the buildings around it. Flathoof explained that this was because Central Database Holdings was a relatively new building compared to the rest of the area, and that most of the surrounding landscape had needed severe reconstruction to accommodate the structure's needs. Specifically, the insertion of a massive series of wires and cables beneath the streets, needed to power the center and transmit information to and from it.
That last bit confused Applejack, and from the looks of it, even confused Twilight. They were used to letters and packages, and thanks to Spike were also familiar with the magic of dragonfire-fueled mail services. Transmitting information through cables and wires, though? How was that even possible?
Flathoof gestured at it with a hoof and addressed Twilight. "Expanding on what I briefly explained earlier, this is the central depository for every single piece of data and information the city has available to it. That means research, literature, art, documentation, news recordings, public records, legal statements, etcetera."
"They must have an absolute ton of information stored there," Twilight mused, her voice tinged with awe.
Applejack nodded her head and removed her hat. "Dang, and all this here place does is hold books?"
Flathoof tilted his head. "Books?"
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, books. You said this place is a library, and libraries hold books, amongst other things, like documents and newspapers. Just like this place does. At least that's what you said."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Flathoof said. "The city’s database is entirely digital. Any written information gets copied into the computer system, then the paper documents are disposed of. Most ponies don't even bother writing things on paper anymore, besides legal documents since the NPRD insists on making things difficult, and the newspapers because… well, it's in the name. But even those get digital copies."
Twilight turned white. "Wh-what? No. No, you're joking. You must be joking."
His stern face said that he wasn't.
"They don't have books here, Applejack!" Twilight grabbed Applejack's side and shook her friend in a fierce panic. "They don't. Have. Books!"
Applejack eased Twilight off of her and held the flustering unicorn steady. "Whoa there, sugarcube, ease up a bit. He said they still got all your info stuff in there, just in a new way. What'd ya call it again?"
"A computer?" Flathoof scratched his head. "You don't know what a… huh. Well, what difference does it make anyway? Come on, let's not dilly-dally around out here." He turned to Twilight and patted her on the shoulder. "Miss Sparkle, since you're looking for a job, we're going to talk to the Chief Librarian. That's your best bet for getting in."
Twilight murmured, "Right. Yes, of course."
The trio entered the building via the glowing blue door at the front. It slid open automatically at their approach. This didn't surprise Flathoof at all, and it only seemed to cause Twilight a little surprise. Applejack, on the other hoof, had been spooked and nearly leapt onto Twilight in shock; doors didn't just open on their own. After she calmed down, they entered properly. Inside, they strolled down a long, black hallway that led to another door, which also opened at their approach, and led them into the main lobby.
It was then seen that it wasn't anywhere near as big on the inside as the outside. The room was still very large, and blanketed with desk after desk. There were enough desks in the room that Applejack was certain that they could probably build a small town out of them.
Upon these desks were the strangest things Applejack had ever seen. They looked like small windows, but instead of being clear, they glowed white. She could see little images moving on some of them, sometimes words, and the ponies at some of the desks were able to manipulate the images with their hooves.
True enough, there wasn't a single book in sight.
They approached the central desk, where they requested the Chief Librarian's presence. While they waited for the receptionist to fetch him, Applejack took the time to pick up and examine the shiny, crystal nameplate that sat on the desk.
"Oooh, fancy."
An olive green unicorn stallion with a neatly-combed lime green mane popped up from behind the desk. He wore a plaid tweed jacket adorned with a tag reading Chief Librarian, and large-rimmed glasses that were too big for his face, giving him every impression of a librarian.
Applejack, surprised, fumbled the nameplate, dropping it to the floor where it shattered. Everypony stared at it in stunned silence.
"Eh heh. Oops?" she murmured.
"That's alright, I have fifty more of those under here." The unicorn promptly reached under the desk, grabbed another nameplate, and replaced the broken one. "Though I'll say I'm used to only small foals breaking them."
His eyes remained narrowed as he spoke. His tone dripped with boredom. He didn't even seem to be looking at any one of them in particular. "Greetings and welcome to Central Database Holdings. I am Chief Librarian Archimedes. How may I be of service to you on this extraordinarily busy day where my time would be better spent elsewhere?"
Twilight coughed into her hoof, then gave a pleasant smile. "Yes, hi… I'm new in town and was looking for some kind of opening position, if you have one available?"
The librarian rolled his eyes. "Our job openings are always limitless because nopony wants to work in a stuffy office building pushing buttons all day. Not when there are more exciting jobs out there like bus driver, garbage stallion, or window cleaner. Who has time to bother sorting through all the information in the city? All the things that we have to send to everypony else that keeps them running? Yes, stars forbid anypony want to help with that."
Archimedes ended his rant with a loud inhalation of air through his nostrils. "At any rate, do you have any qualifications?"
"I worked at the… Utopian… Central… Library. Yes. Utopian Central Library. In Utopia. Because that's where I'm from," Twilight added with a nervous, awkward smile.
"Utopia, huh?" Archimedes raised an eyebrow and looked at Twilight as if she were a bug. "Are they still using hard-copies over there or have they stopped being such barbarians and finally made the transition over to digital materials?"
"What's wrong with hard copies?" Twilight scoffed.
"It's so easy to lose hard-copy material compared to digital data, either to damage or to thieves. Irresponsible, really. Not the case with digital. We have backups of our backups of our backups, and everything sensitive is quadruple encoded to prevent unauthorized access." He cleared his throat and continued to give her the same disinterested look. "But I digress. What types of materials are you familiar with?"
"Well, I'm used to hard-copy materials," Twilight said. "But I'm—"
Archimedes rolled his eyes and waved a hoof dismissively. "All well and fine. You're a librarian, so that means you can read, and that means you can learn. It's not that difficult of a transition, really. You're actually learning to use something easier. None of that decimal system garbage I'm certain you're accustomed to."
"Hey, what's wrong with the decimal—"
"Before I consider your employment though, I'll have to see how quickly you can adjust to using our database. I don't need another brain-dead lout on my staff, not after that last idiot nearly deleted half the city's registry when I asked him to change the name of a folder."
"I can assure you, I'm not an idiot," Twilight said.
Archimedes nodded his head, though clearly not really believing her answer. "Right, well, we'll soon find out. First, tell me why you're being escorted by a police officer." He turned to Flathoof. "Care to explain, Officer…?"
"Captain Flathoof. She's on parole," Flathoof said. "New in town, didn't have identification. You know how it is."
Archimedes frowned, giving Flathoof a quick once-over. "I suppose I shouldn't question why they were allowed past the Gate without identification?"
"Bit of a management mishap. Paperwork got messed up. They're only on parole because their attempt to get ID caused a ruckus downtown. Accusations of disorderly conduct and the like."
Archimedes hummed, then shrugged. "Doesn't sound like anything that might threaten my life or my work." He turned to Twilight again. "Now then, if you don't mind, Miss… forgive me, I didn't get your name, either."
"Twilight Sparkle," she said, bowing her head slightly.
Archimedes turned back to Flathoof, and pointed at Twilight. "Miss Sparkle here is going to need to come with me to provide background information and proof of her capabilities. Dreadfully sorry, but I can't allow anypony else into the Database Hub."
Flathoof narrowed his eyes. "Oh really? Why's that?"
"We have a strict policy: two ponies at a time, no more, no less, one of whom must have a Librarian Database Keycard. If I go about making exceptions here and there then I may as well not have the rule in the first place. Rules are rules, you understand."
"Right. Her parole says I have to keep her in sight at all times." Flathoof stared at Archimedes, not budging an inch. "Surely you can do whatever it is you need to do within close proximity to me? Rules are rules, you understand."
Archimedes stared right back. "My apologies, Captain. I hate to sound uncooperative, but I can assure you your superiors wouldn't have any trouble with my stipulations. I've done my share of research on the NPPD rules and regulations, and know that you can allow your parolee out of your sight if they're going in for a job interview. I trust that won't be a problem, will it?"
Flathoof balked and stood speechless for half a second. "Nnnope, no trouble. I understand. Rules are rules. But I suppose, then, you also know there's a time limit imposed on that rule?"
Archimedes waved his hoof. "Yes yes, we have an hour before you come barging in and start barking orders. Come along, Miss Sparkle."
Twilight gave a pleading look to Applejack as she was escorted away.
"Well, she'll be fine for now then, I guess," Flathoof said, breathing through his nose, clearly not used to having his authority challenged so directly. "Today has just not been working out so well. I need a cup of coffee."
He looked around and saw the library's mini coffee shop in the corner, with a sign over it reading CDH Café. He turned to Applejack and gestured towards the shop. "Come along, Miss Applejack. I'll buy you a cup too. We might be here awhile."
"Oh. Alright then." Applejack started following Flathoof towards the shop. "Well hang on, I thought ya said she was only gonna take an hour?"
"Yes, but I suspect Miss Sparkle will likely want to go a bit above and beyond if she can. I think I can trust her not to go running off and leaving you alone." Flathoof held the door open for her, and helped her pick out a table. "Besides, she'll want to look into other avenues of employment appropriate for her talents."
"You'd trust us that quickly?" Applejack asked, taking a seat at a corner table.
Flathoof chuckled. "I've learned over the years how to tell whether or not a pony is trustworthy. I tend to stick close to those who are."
Flathoof left Applejack and headed up to the counter, where she saw him order two large coffees. He returned a moment later and set her coffee in front of her, before taking his seat and immediately sipping from his own cup.
"Oh by the stars that's good stuff," he said, breathing deep.
Applejack stared at her cup for a moment, unsure what to make of the thick liquid that Flathoof had called "coffee". She knew what coffee was, certainly, but this didn't seem like any coffee she knew.
It was black, like any good coffee was, but it didn't really have a smell to it. Applejack sipped slowly at first, then took a bigger sip before setting her cup back down and exhaling sharply. It didn't taste bad, certainly; then again, it didn't taste good either. Bland, flavorless, yet at the very least palpable.
Applejack felt a sense of emptiness as she drank it, noting how good it also wasn't. They hadn't been here in this new place for very long, but already she was feeling extremely homesick the more she thought about what she was missing.
She remembered Apple Bloom waking up early and making coffee for her and Big Macintosh one morning. Her stomach turned at the thought of it. Whatever that little filly's cutie mark ended up being, it was not going to have anything to do with coffee. Still, even though this was among the worst coffees she'd ever tasted, it reminded her of home. She missed her family dearly.
Applejack felt nervous being alone with Flathoof, even if that had been the reason she'd come along to the library in the first place. Something about him piqued her interest, and it was more than just his honesty and hard-working mentality. She couldn't explain it.
When they'd been together in that elevator back at the station, she'd been squeezed next to him a bit too closely. She'd smelt a certain aroma on him that reminded her of home in a way. Nothing like apples, soil, or open air. This city didn't have those things anyway, or so she thought. But, the scent was still somehow familiar. The smell of soot, metal, and hard labor. Where would he get such a scent working in the city like this? The police station certainly lacked any of those things.
Flathoof broke the silence. "I'm glad I get to spend some time with one of you one-on-one. Trying to focus on six ponies at once has been proving challenging.You're all so… different. How did you all come to be such close friends?"
"Well, some of us knew each other before Twilight moved to Ponyville," Applejack explained, knowing there was no point in not mentioning Ponyville anymore. She couldn't bring herself to say "Utopia" unless it was absolutely necessary.
"Rainbow and I met 'cause she's with Ponyville's weather patrol, and I run the biggest farm in town. Her patrol team has to keep up a regular rainfall schedule, see? And Fluttershy, well, she's real good with animals, and we've got a few animals on our farm too."
"I'm only vaguely aware of what a farm even is, but it sounds like it's complicated work," he said with a nod. "Pretty neat that your farm got you in touch with so many friends."
"Yeah, but we weren't exactly 'friends' then, just, uh… what's the word? Acquaintances? We all got to know each other better when Twilight moved in. I guess she's kinda like our glue, 'cause she brought us all together. Weren't until Twilight came into the picture that I knew Rarity or Pinkie too well outside of seein' 'em in market every now 'n' then."
"How'd Twilight manage that?" Flathoof asked.
Applejack nervously took her cup in both hooves as she considered the tale. "Well, she was sent in from the big city to organize a big event 'cause our town was gonna be hostin' it. All five of the rest of us were picked for big parts of the event, 'cause we're the best at what we do, so she had to meet us first. Kinda took off from there."
Applejack elected not to mention the entire Nightmare Moon incident and the Elements of Harmony portion of the story. There might be time for that some other day, but for now it seemed a waste to try and explain something that Flathoof would likely never believe. She'd experienced it herself and it was still a little too whimsical to accept.
Flathoof nodded and took another sip of his coffee. "I suppose I can understand that. Lockwood has been much the same for me. I can't count the number of ponies I've met and had good relations with thanks to his involvement. That's his special talent, building up these little social networks of his."
"Well shucks, that's kind of a neat talent to have, ain't it? Somethin' like that’d probably help me make all kinds of business deals.”
"He's close with my family too. My mother just adores him. She tries so hard to get him to visit more often."
"Y'all got family here?" she asked.
"Of course I've got family," he said, confused. "What, they don't have those back in Utopia either?"
Applejack frowned; she knew he was joking, but it wasn't all that funny. "That's not what I meant. I mean, my friends never say much about their families. Heck, I knew Twilight for a year before she even mentioned she had a brother. I only found out he existed when she got invited to his weddin'. I was just wonderin' if y'all were the same, forgettin' to mention anypony else."
"I assure you, I'm not forgetting anything." Flathoof took another large gulp of coffee. "So, you have family back home?"
"I do." She sighed. "I miss 'em already…"
Flathoof smiled warmly. "The way I look at it, your family is always with you, no matter how far away you are. Even if it's across the world, they'll always support you, right?"
Applejack nodded and gave a small smile. "I suppose. I just worry about 'em, that's all."
"What are they like? Any brothers, sisters?"
"One older brother, Macintosh. We all call him 'Big' Macintosh 'cause he's… well, he's a big guy. Hard worker, just like me. Good with math, but I ain't never seen him open a book so I ain't got any idea where he gets it from. Who knows what he gets up to in his free time.
"One lil' sister, Apple Bloom. She's… well, she's—" Applejack hesitated for a moment, then shrugged and smiled broadly. "She's Apple Bloom! Been a lil' bit obsessed with gettin' her cutie mark, and she won't listen to reason about givin' it time.
"Also got lots 'n' lots of cousins, all part of the 'Apple Clan' as we call it. I won't go through the whole list though or we'd be here all day. Got a grandmother, Granny Smith. She's gettin' along okay… but me 'n' Big Mac are worried she don't have long…"
Flathoof took another sip of coffee. "Parents?"
Applejack's smile dropped, and she stared into her coffee like it was the only thing in the world to look at. "I don't want to talk about that, if y'all don't mind?"
"I apologize." Flathoof frowned and put his cup back on the table. "If I brought up any bad memories—"
"Don't worry about it none." She shook her head and took a sip of her own coffee again. "How about you? What's your family like?"
"Mine?" Flathoof blinked and scratched his chin for a second. "Okay, I guess I can tell you. I've got my mother and father, Shortcake and Stouthoof. Two younger brothers, Thickhoof and Shorthoof. One younger sister, Pattycake. The stallions on my father's side have all been Foundry workers for generations. And, as my father says, 'the Hoof line has always been attracted to great chefs', so that's what my family's mares have all tended to be."
Applejack found herself recalling something Pinkie once called her, "best baker ever". She shook her head. Why did she think of that at all?
He laughed and drained the last of his coffee. "Very traditional, you understand. I'm a bit of a black sheep, if you will. The first stallion in over twelve generations not to work in the Foundry. I gave it a try out of high school but decided it wasn't for me. Nearly broke my poor father's heart."
Applejack scratched her head. "What's a Foundry?"
"Oh, it's the major factory center in Mid-North. They make just about everything in the city that gets used for construction purposes of all shapes and sizes: metal smelting, tools, things like that. Not an easy job, I tell you. A lot of physical work, and there's always a risk of serious injury." She could hear the sadness in his voice with that last bit.
Applejack nodded. While she had only a vague idea what a factory was, it seemed like it was a lot like farm work, in a way: lots of physical labor, long days, and his family all did the same kind of work? Well, except himself, of course.
"Why ain't ya there with your family, if they all do the same kind of work?" she asked, remembering well her own younger days and hopes of being different by moving to Manehattan. "Sounds to me like that'd be mighty supportive for 'em. What made y'all change your mind?"
Flathoof chuckled as he sheepishly ran a hoof through his mane. "You can thank Lockwood for that. He was a wimp back in school and got picked on a lot. He still is a wimp, but at least he knows how to take better care of himself these days. I didn't like seeing my friend getting bullied around, so I stood up for him when he couldn't. Guess I kind of just ran with the idea of standing up for ponies, thought maybe the NPPD was my true calling."
"Looks like ya made it big there," Applejack said. "Still, y'all sound like ya ain't too happy about it."
Flathoof chuckled. "Oh, you would not believe the grief my family gave me for that. 'Not joining the family line', 'risking your life for strangers', 'working around all those crooked good-for-nothings'. It took them time, but eventually they understood why I wanted to do it, and since then they've supported me all the way. Helped a lot that Lockwood had always been another son to them. He's very convincing."
"Do ya still live with 'em? I know my friends don't live with their families no more. Far as I know, they don't even write or nothin'. Twilight didn't even know her brother was gettin' hitched 'til the week of the weddin'! Can you believe it?" Applejack shook her head in disbelief.
Flathoof nodded. "I certainly can. It's expensive moving out and living on your own around here. Unless you've got connections like Lockwood does, of course. My dad's too proud to accept much help, though, otherwise Lockwood would've probably hooked us up someplace nicer by now."
Well, now she knew where he got the smell. If he lived with his family and they all worked at that factory, then their whole house probably smelled like that at all times of the day, probably even overpowering the smell of whatever foods his mother and sister whipped up.
Flathoof shrugged. "Plus there's the practical reasons. My status as a police officer gets them a tax break, but only if I'm living with them. It's uncomfortable, sure, but I manage. My family needs every bit we can get, ever since…" He trailed off, then gave her an apologetic look. "Well, it's a long story."
"We got time, sugarcube." Applejack blushed when she realized she'd accidentally called him by the pet name she gave to all her friends. Where had that come from?
"Well, my brother, Thickhoof, got injured on the job about five years ago, when I was still just a rookie. Lost the use of his hind legs. He has to use a wheelchair or crutches to get around these days."
Applejack frowned at the dejected, faraway look in his eyes.
He sighed and batted his empty cup around between his hooves. "I had to work extra shifts for three years—most of my family too—just to pay his medical bills and to make up for the tax payments that he still has to meet. Lockwood has been a big help, getting us breaks whenever he can, but there's a limit to how many miracles he can work out."
Applejack smiled. "Well now, that's real nice of him."
"Like I said, my mother adores him. Kept trying to hook him up with my sister even though we're— even though the two of them don't see eye-to-eye." He gave a little laugh and used his hooves to draw out a round shape. "She's too big and loud for the poor guy. He likes a more, uh, soft and delicate type I think. Y'know, somepony like himself."
Applejack nodded. "I'm sorry to hear about your brother. I know I worry about things like that all the time. My brother got hurt a while back. Nothin' big, but it kept him outta work for a whole week. I was worried sick, and that ain't countin' havin' to double my workload to make up his. I kept worryin', 'what if he don't get better?', so I pushed myself a lil' too hard just to prove I could do the work of two if that ever happened."
"So you all work on your… farm together then? What kind of food do you grow? Is it any good?"
"You betcha!" Applejack smiled, glad to bring the topic back around to happier things. "Best darn apple crop in all of Equestria, if I do say so myself, not to toot my own horn or nothin'."
Flathoof scratched his head. "I'm afraid I don't know what an 'apple' is."
"Oh. Well shoot, yeah, of course ya don't. I can't see how anypony could grow apples around here anyhow. Well, we grow other things too, sure as shootin'! Carrots, celery stalks, corn, that sorta thing."
"I'll admit I've always kind of wanted to have real food more often, but it's not cheap." He sighed in disappointment. "I'm kind of disappointed you didn't bring anything with you. Not that it would've made it through customs, of course, not without a trade license and all that."
Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Uh, 'real'? What in the hay does that mean?"
"Well like you said, this isn't exactly the best agricultural center," he said, swirling his hoof around above him. "I mean, we live in a smog-covered city surrounded by a barren wasteland that we oh-so-creatively named ‘The Wasteland’. So, we make synthetic food. Well, the Dolor company does anyway. They've got kind of a monopoly, but hey, you don't want to taste the knock-offs."
Applejack eyed her coffee with extreme disdain. It wasn't real coffee? Sure, she admitted it tasted a little funny, but she'd chalked that up to it just being an odd brew, not it being fake.
She gulped. "So, uh, what do y'all use to make it if ya don't got any crops?"
"Ponies."
Applejack turned white and was glad she hadn't been drinking the stuff at that exact moment, but was horrified that she'd already finished half her cup.
Flathoof started laughing. "Sorry, sorry, just a joke. I've got to remember you girls don't really have much of a sense of humor like we do. That whole 'Dolor Green is Ponies' thing is just a sick rumor. I've seen their facility myself, and I haven't seen anything that made me think the rumors were true."
Applejack continued to tremble, and pushed her cup away from herself as far as she could.
Flathoof tugged his collar and gave her an apologetic smile. "C'mon now, Applejack, you've just gotta relax. If you're going to hang around Lockwood for any amount of time, you're going to have to get used to some of his jokes. He's much better about it than I am. Or worse, depending on your point of view. He's got the tone of voice down perfect."
"R-right…" She gulped and eyed her coffee, deciding right then and there not to take another sip, just in case. "Heh, w-what a silly thought, usin' ponies as food. Heh. Heh heh…"
As the two of them continued to talk, neither took much notice of an icy blue unicorn mare in a turtleneck sitting several tables away, hurriedly scribbling in a notebook.
*****
"Easy now. Just a little more to the left. A little more… aha! Perfect. Wonderful work darling!" Rarity said to Fluttershy as she helped her straighten a cleaned set of curtains over a cracked window. "Oh it is so good to have an extra pair of delicate hooves like yours available, my dear."
"Thank you." Fluttershy blushed, her face obscured behind her mane. "It's nothing much, really."
"On the contrary, darling! With your help, we'll have this hovel looking spic and span in no time at all. Why, it might even just be liveable!"
Inside room eighty-four and five at Southeast Point, cleaning had really gotten underway now that there was more room to move, even if there were less ponies to do the work. The few bits of furniture left in the room by a previous tenant—and not a murder victim, hopefully—were enough to help them turn the cramped apartment into a comfortable home. It wasn't anything particularly fancy, but it was clean enough that it would serve them for as long as needed.
"And then we can begin decorating for the party, right?" Pinkie asked. She started bouncing in a circle, giggling into her hooves. "Oh boy, I wonder when we can go start shopping for—"
Rarity interrupted, "Pinkie, dear, that is really neither here nor there at this point. I think we should focus more on getting everything all cleaned up, then getting some rest. Maybe we can think about the party tomorrow, hmm? Besides, we don't have any money for supplies like that just yet, and I'd feel rather awful asking for any more charity from our generous friends."
From the doorway, Lockwood gave a light-hearted chuckle. "My dear Miss Rarity, with a face like yours, I'm quite surprised there isn't already a line of stallions lining up to give you gifts."
Rarity smiled back at him. "Oh ho ho, don't you think that just by doling out charm that you can get out of helping us tidy up, Lockwood. Come on then, be a good stallion and—"
A voice came from the stairwell. "Mister Lockwood! Mister Lockwood!"
Lockwood turned around and stepped into the hall to find the source of the shouting. "By the stars, what's all the commotion?"
A light purple earth pony mare bounded up the stairs and hopped into the hallway, landing next to him with a thump. Her sides heaved as she tried to catch her breath, and she put a hoof over her chest to calm herself. She rested a foreleg against Lockwood to steady herself.
"Thank goodness I found—" She took a breath. "Hold on—" Another breath. "Give me a minute—" She exhaled greatly. "Whew! Okay. I'm good. Mister Lockwood!" She grabbed his hoof and started dragging him towards the stairs. "You gotta come quick! There's another gas leak!"
Lockwood chuckled dismissively. "Whoa now, what are you getting me for then? That's Fixit's job, you know that."
The mare kept dragging him. "Mister Fixit's on his way!"
"Okay, so?
"It's in eighty-two and twelve thirty!"
Lockwood nearly tripped. "Aww, no, not those two again. Didn't we tell them last time they had a leak that they'd used up their allotted repairs for the month?"
She pleaded. "I know, sir, but you gotta—"
Lockwood held up a hoof to stop her from talking. "Fine fine, I'll take care of this. Go on, I'll be right down."
He grumbled and turned back to the four mares in the room that had watched the whole thing unfold, then started pacing back and forth rapidly, his head slowly shaking back and forth in thought.
Rarity coughed into her hoof. "Trouble, I take it?"
Lockwood sighed and straightened his jacket. "There's a pair of tenants down in eighty-two and twelve thirty that are real… basket cases. This is the third leak this month. We don't know what's causing it or if they're even at fault, but they're making a stink about it. I need to calm them down before they start trouble again, at least until Fixit shows up to… well, fix it."
He took a deep breath. "Okay, this is going to sound really irresponsible, but I need to take care of this. My primary job has to come first. Can I trust you all to just stay here and keep cleaning?"
Rarity and Fluttershy glanced at one another, then back to him and nodded. "Of course you can, darling."
Rainbow snorted. "Pft, you guys are lucky we're not real criminals, I'll tell you that much."
"I know, I know," Lockwood said. He smoothed his mane back with a hoof and straightened his jacket. "Look, I've gotta get down there. Just hold tight, okay?"
He turned back around and headed down the stairwell, leaving the four mares alone in their room.
Rarity turned to Pinkie and tutted. "Well? Don't stand around, dear. I'd like to have everything tidied up before Twilight and Applejack return. So—"
A loud crash sounded from the kitchen, causing Rarity to snap her head towards the violent clatter of flying pots and pans. "Good heavens, Rainbow Dash, what are you doing?!"
"I'm trying to clean up over here, what does it look like I'm doing?"
Wielding a duster in her mouth, Rainbow stirred up a frenzy in the small kitchen area. Small cooking appliances leapt away in fear of her rapid cleaning. Huge clouds of dust tumbled directly onto other mounds of dust, spreading the mess rather than getting rid of it. If Rarity had planned to give the kitchen a good once over before, now she was desperate to fend Rainbow away.
Rarity stomped over to Rainbow, and yanked the feather duster away from her with a contemptuous snort. Immediately, she set about the enormous task of repairing the damage the pegasus had caused.
"It looks like you're taking a few big messes and turning them into a whole lot of smaller ones!" Rarity scolded, shaking the duster in Rainbow's face and covering the pegasus with dust. She then spun around in place, dusting the cabinets and the counter tops while she hummed a spirited tune.
Rainbow gave her an exasperated look and snatched the duster out of Rarity's magic. "Pfft, what does it even matter, anyway? It's not like we're going to be here for that long."
Rarity scowled, snatching the duster right back. "Regardless of how long we're here for, this is our home for now, and it wouldn't be right to—"
"This isn't our home, Rarity." Rainbow snatched the duster yet again, and batted it back and forth in the air above her head to keep it out of Rarity's reach. "Have a little faith in Twilight. She'll figure out something and we'll be back home in a jiffy."
Rarity looked offended, and grabbed the duster with her magic again. Rainbow held tight, tugging on it to keep Rarity from getting it back.
Pinkie loudly chomped down on another scoop of popcorn from her seat on the couch. Fluttershy glanced at the bag—she didn't know where it'd come from—then at Pinkie. Pinkie wordlessly offered her some, which Fluttershy hesitantly took. Butter-flavored, with a hint of salt.
Rarity continued to argue even as she fiercely fought for control of the cleaning instrument. "Are you implying I don't have any confidence in Twilight? I'm merely preparing for the off-chance that whatever solution she discovers isn't going to just immediately whisk us away and take us back to where we belong. It's called 'preparedness', Rainbow."
Rainbow pointed an accusing hoof at Rarity and started to speak, dropping the duster to the floor in the process. The chintzy wooden handle snapped in half as it hit the tile. Rarity and Rainbow gave each other nervous stares for a moment. Fluttershy cringed from her seat on the couch.
Pinkie coughed, almost choking on a popcorn kernel. Fluttershy tapped her back to help dislodge it.
Rarity rolled her eyes, grabbed the second duster from the nearby countertop, and got right back to her cleaning.
Rainbow huffed and pointed her hoof at Rarity again. "There you go acting like even if Twilight finds something that'll get us home, we'll be here long enough that we may as well—"
"Treat it like our home away from home, yes," Rarity interrupted. She pushed her way past Rainbow and started dusting around their tiny stove. "What exactly is your objection to being practical, Rainbow?" she asked, turning and jabbing the duster at the pegasus again. "If, Celestia forbid, we end up being here for a while, wouldn't it make sense to at least be comfortable?"
Rainbow rolled her eyes and, once again, yanked the duster out of Rarity's grip. "It's not that I'm not being practical, it's that I want to have faith in my friend to figure this all out."
She then stamped a hoof and jabbed the duster at Rarity for a change, getting dust all over the unicorn's face.
"Ptth, ffth," Rarity spat. "Rainbow Dash, really!"
A gasp sounded from the couch, followed by a quiet shush.
"I could ask you the opposite!" Rainbow shouted. "Why are you so determined to think the worst of the situation?"
"Me? I'm just trying to make sure that if the worst does happen, we don't get caught without a backup plan. Twilight would do the same thing."
Pinkie popped up between the two arguing ponies and wrapped them together in a tight hug. "Hey, turn those frowns upside-down, you two! I'm sure Twilight'll come through just fine. She's always been super-reliable in the past, right?" She dropped the two ponies in her grip to repeatedly tap a hoof to her temple. "Well, I mean, except for that time with the Parasprites. That was all me that fixed everything. Twilight just made it worse."
Rainbow narrowed her eyes. "So you're saying we should look to you for answers, Pinks? Because last I checked you were more concerned with throwing a party than with trying to get us home."
Rarity tutted, shaking the duster she'd managed to snatch back in Rainbow's face again. "Don't get started on her. She's just trying to make this whole experience more pleasant for all of us, and to thank our new friends. It's the least we could do to show our appreciation."
"And that's another thing!" Rainbow shouted, throwing her hooves into the air. "You guys are all so trusting of these two new ponies, who helped us for no reason whatsoever except to be 'nice'. It all seems pretty suspicious to me. What if they're up to something, huh?"
"And you think I'm the one assuming the worst? Listen to you!" Rarity turned her nose up. "I don't even want to think about what you think they could be up to."
"Yeah, I bet you wouldn't." Rainbow turned towards the den. "How about you Fluttershy? At least tell me you have some suspicions about 'em."
Fluttershy squeaked and tried to hide behind the couch. She thought she'd done a good job of not being noticed. "W-well, they both seem… nice. I can, um… I can tell when a pony is really being kind to me, or if it's just an act. Rarity's right, they don't seem like bad ponies at all."
"Urgh, whatever. I'll believe it when I see it." Rainbow grabbed the duster out of Rarity's hold again, and started sweeping a pile of dust under the kitchen rug. "If it'll shut you all up for a little bit I'll just get back to cleaning on my own."
Rarity grimaced and put a hoof to her mouth. "Oh dear, you're not really going to just sweep that all under the rug are you? Good heavens, that's counter-productivity at its finest."
Pinkie pulled a third duster out of her mane and passed it over to Rarity.
Rarity took it, paused, then shrugged. "Nevermind. Here, Rainbow, at least let me help you."
"Phew…" Fluttershy breathed a sigh of relief and leaned back against the couch. "Oh, if you girls don't mind, um… I'm going to take a step out for some fresh air. All this dust is bothering my nose."
"Go right ahead, darling," Rarity said, keeping the rug aloft in her magic as she tried to prevent Rainbow from sweeping any more dust under it. "You deserve a break."
Once she'd stepped out of the cramped little room, Fluttershy looked about and spotted only one other pony in the hallway with her: a janitor wearing… a turtleneck and a scarf? Odd clothes to wear while doing cleaning. They stood facing the corner away from Fluttershy, busily doing something with one the wall panels, it seemed.
Figuring that her friends were well out of earshot, Fluttershy let out another deep sigh of relief. She was glad the argument had settled down before it got any worse, more importantly that Rainbow hadn't forced the issue of sharing opinions. She hadn't wanted to share her own fears and tribulations about the whole situation.
Truth be told, she was actually somewhat glad to hear that she wasn't the only one frightened at the prospect of being stuck here forever. That meant she wasn't alone. She still hoped that Twilight would come through, of course. She knew she would, but how long would that take? How long would they be here? A few hours? Another day? A week? Months? Years?!
In her focus, she almost did not notice the janitor busily sweep past her and head for the stairs.
Fluttershy gave a nervous peep just before the janitor got to the stairwell. "Oh, um, excuse me, I think you dropped something."
Fluttershy trotted over and picked up a notebook that the janitor had misplaced. As she delivered it, she couldn't help but notice what was in the notebook. Was that a sketch of her? She was used to that kind of treatment even back home—she had been a model after all—though she didn't much like the attention.
The janitor grabbed it in a hurry. Fluttershy now noticed the janitor was an icy blue unicorn mare; she hadn't assumed one way or the other, but still, it was nice to have confirmation.
"Bloody hell, how did I drop— oh, I mean, thanks."
Fluttershy smiled. "Um, are you some kind of artist? In your spare time, I mean?"
The janitor glanced back and forth between her notebook and Fluttershy's eager expression. "Well, uh… yes! Yes. Ya could say that. I'm taking, uh sketch classes. Yup. Sketching… stuff…"
"Your drawing is very nice," Fluttershy said. "You really captured my image. It's very lifelike. Oh, if you don't mind my saying so," she added; some ponies hated getting critique, after all.
"No no, not at all, thanks for the compliment." The janitor tucked her notebook back into her sweater pocket and started backing towards the stairs. "Sorry to run, but I've got other floors to tidy up. Pleasure speaking to ya. Bye!"
And just like that, the janitor was hastily down the stairs. She was in such a hurry that she seemed to skip entire floors on her way down.
"Such a strange pony," Fluttershy said.
She turned and headed back towards the apartment.
Then, she stopped.
There was a breeze coming from the window at the end of the hall. She coughed a little as the smoggy air started to waft in. Had the window just been opened? There wasn't anypony around now that the janitor was gone. Fluttershy trotted over and closed the window with a click, took a breath of cleaner air, then turned back towards the apartment again.
*****
Winter set her things down in her den and hurriedly hung up her scarf and beret. She took a deep breath, and opened her refrigerator to help herself to a snack, a thick tube of Dolor Yellow this time. It was not her favorite flavor by any means—when chilled it tasted like too-sour lemons—but it was packed with nutrients that would re-energize her after galloping across the city in pursuit of a lead.
Summer had insisted that whatever was happening needed urgent attention, so she was going to get Winter's best work.
Once Winter felt relaxed and well-fed, she clicked her stopwatch and opened the door to her grandfather clock. A brief check around the room revealed nothing out of the ordinary. As she closed the door behind her, she noticed that it didn't click just right, almost as if something had been caught in the hinge. She tried again and got the same result. She scratched her head, then shrugged.
Damn door always has problems, she thought. Ah, I'll fix it when I'm done.
She cantered over to her communications screen and clicked a few buttons to open up her emergency channel. That's where Summer would most likely prefer to be monitoring the most, given the situation. It rang once. Twice.
As expected, Summer did not take long to answer. Her visage appeared on the other end of the monitor, and Winter could tell she had been quite busy these past several hours. It was nearing daybreak in this world, and thus likely in Summer's as well. Had she been up all night?
"Oh good, you're back already," Summer said.
"You alright there, mate?" Winter asked. "Ya look more rooted than I do."
Summer rubbed her eyes. They were just a little bloodshot. "Don't worry about me, Winter. Somethin' is definitely the matter on my end, so I'm hopin' that you're going to help me find out what, or rather who is causin' it. Please tell me you've got some news? Good news?"
"Well, I decided to keep my distance from them for now and just observe from afar," Winter explained, taking out her notepad. "I figured if I just came right out and started spoutin' all the timey-wimey shit, they'd just panic or get confused, or worse get excited. I don't want to get their hopes up or anythin' just yet."
Summer nodded. "Oh yeah, you said they're not going home for probably a month or so anyway."
"Right, so if they start gettin' anxious they're liable to break character and start soundin' crazy. Might make it more difficult to get them sent home later on."
Winter shuffled through her sketchbook and opened it to the most recent drawing she'd made first. It was a rough but accurate sketch of an earth pony with a curly mane and tail, and a cutie mark of three balloons. She'd noted in the margins that the pony was very, very pink.
Winter read from her notes on the back of her paper. "This is… Pinkie Pie. Really energetic, kind of a fruit loop. She kept talkin' about gettin' a party started, bugger all if I know why. Any bells?"
Summer tapped a hoof to her chin. "She looks familiar. I might have seen her around Ponyville, but I can't put my hoof on anythin' just yet. Just keep goin', I'll think of it. Who's next?"
Winter flipped the page over. This time, the sketch was of a dainty-looking unicorn with a curly, well-groomed mane and tail and three diamonds making up her cutie mark. Winter's scribbles said she was white with a purple mane.
"This was Rarity. She was a right figjam, very—"
"I'm sorry, she was a what? A figjam?"
"Eh? Oh. It means she's really full of herself, yeah? Figjam's an acronym."
"Forrr...?"
Winter rolled her eyes. "Stands for 'fuck I'm good just ask me'."
"Ah." Summer coughed; she wouldn't be quite so accustomed to that sort of language where she was from. "Carry on."
"Yeah, so she was very prim, very proper, very tidy, but she also seemed practical, and just wanted to get settled in case they couldn't go home anytime soon. She's on the right track far as I'm concerned. Anythin'?"
"Again, very familiar," Summer mused. "Gosh, I think I know these mares, but I can't think of what would make them significant. I know I should, but frack if I can remember."
"Maybe ya need to get some sleep?" Winter said. "We can continue this in the mornin'."
"No time for that," Summer dismissed. "Just keep goin'. It's just that my head's goin' a mile-a-minute right now, so I'm a bit fuzzy on the details doncha know."
Winter shrugged. "Well, alright then."
She flipped to the next sketch, a short-maned pegasus that was noted to have a rainbow-colored mane and tail, a lightning bolt-shaped cutie mark, and a light blue coat.
"Rainbow Dash. Very loud, sort of a figjam herself but in a different way. She meant well, though, like she was tryin' to be brave for the others. Made a pretty big fuss about bein' here and acceptin' help from strangers."
Summer frowned and rubbed her temples. "Aw geez, that name sounds familiar. Rainbow Dash is a bit of a celebrity around Ponyville, doncha know. Fastest flyer I've ever seen."
"So ya know some of them, but you're not seein' anythin' useful?"
"Right, I'm not seein' the connection between them all yet. For cripe's sake, I know there's somethin' important about her, but I just can't remember."
On the next page was a timid-looking pegasus with a long, flowing mane and tail. Those were noted to be light pink, like the butterflies that composed her cutie mark. Her coat was noted as being yellow.
"Fluttershy. She was very quiet." Winter gave a small smile. "She's a cute sheila, eh? Really lived up to her name. I'm kind of worried about what might happen to this one. My world isn't all sunshine and gumdrops."
"I don't really recognize her," Summer said, "but she must be connected if she was with the others."
Winter nodded and flipped her notebook page again. "Well at any rate, those four were settlin' in at their new apartment. I've got no idea how they managed to get one so quickly. Anyway, I found the other two bein' escorted by a police officer. I guess they got into a little trouble for not havin' any ID."
Summer frowned. "Aw geez, that's not gonna mess things up, will it?"
Winter waved a hoof. "Nah, no worries, mate. They're likely only on parole or somethin', so they won't be escorted all the time or for long." She pointed at her sketch of an earth pony wearing a hat, with a triple apple cutie mark adorning her noted orange flank. "First, Applejack. Mentioned working at a Sweet Apple Acres?"
Summer sighed and ran a hoof through her sweaty mane. "Frack! I recognize that name too. Everypony in Ponyville knows who Applejack is. That farm's been in her family for generations. And I know these girls are all connected, too, but I can't put my hoof on it."
"Well, it sounds like they all lived in your town so it makes sense that they'd be there. But why were they together? And why were they near the portal at the same time?"
"I'm thinkin', I'm thinkin'. I wanna say it's because they're all friends and… I dunno, maybe they were havin' a picnic?"
"Wouldn't explain why they're causin' an imbalance just for bein' gone, though."
Winter scratched her head, then flipped the page to reveal a unicorn with straight-combed hair and a starburst cutie mark, her coat noted as being a light purple. "Last, Twilight Sparkle. Kind of a bookworm, which must be a huge blow for her here, what with so few books in the city and all that." She paused. "Crikey, mate, you okay?"
Summer's face had gone white on the other end of the line. "Aw geez, awwww geez, I recognize her."
Winter brightened. "Oh? Good! But, uh, ya don't look happy about that. Is somethin' wrong?"
Summer pointed her hoof at the screen. "That would be the prized pupil of none other than Princess Celestia herself. I knew these mares looked familiar, and now I remember why. Frack me sideways, I've been so stressed out lately I didn't see it. Now it all makes sense, doncha know. Those are the bearers of the Elements of Harmony!"
Winter looked back and forth between the sketch and the screen. "The Elements of what-now?"
Summer sighed and put her hooves under her chin. "Okay, it's like this. In my world—and most worlds similar to mine—we've got six relics that represent individual aspects of Law: the Elements of Harmony. They used to just sit around and do their job on their own thanks to Princess Celestia, doncha know?"
"Oh yeah, I think I read about those in trainin'," Winter said, recalling some of her basic history classes. "This world doesn't have anythin' like that. So what's the trouble if they just do their job on their own? What's it got to do with these six?"
"Well, ever since Nightmare Moon returned and was defeated, the power of the Elements were transferred from Princess Celestia to those six mares. I don't know which of them is which, besides Twilight Sparkle bein' Magic, but the others are Honesty, Loyalty, Generosity, Kindness, and Laughter.
"To balance them out, we've got Discord, who's basically pure Chaos in physical form, doncha know. In my world he's been beaten twice, once long ago by Celestia and Luna, the other recently by those six. His seal broke after the Elements changed hooves, eh?"
"So that's where your problem is, then. That seal is breakin', so Discord is causin' the imbalance without these mares there to counteract it." Winter leaned back in her chair and breathed deep. "Sounds like a right mess."
Summer shook her head and took out her Timekeeper. She clicked it a few times, shaking her head at each display of figures she saw. "You don't know the half of it, believe you me. See, when they left my world, their seal on Discord weakened almost immediately, probably because it's still fresh and they're not as strong as Celestia and Luna, doncha know?"
"Just goin' from bad to worse, eh?"
"Oh yeah. Not to mention that anythin' chaotic near him will cause that seal to weaken faster. Luckily, Celestia put his statue somewhere where he won't be exposed to too much. I hope."
"How long do we have, then?"
"Let's see…" Summer tapped her Timekeeper a few times, then groaned. "Aw geez, the seal might break within the next four weeks, and that's bein' generous," she explained. "I'd say realistically you're lookin' at three."
"Strewth! You're not giving me a lot of options here, Summer."
Summer sighed and nodded. "Frack, Winter, I wish I could, but we can't afford to wait until you get natural portals again. This is a mess. I doubt anypony would mind if we took drastic measures here. Emergency Measure Five sounds appropriate, doncha know."
Winter nodded. "The ol' artificial portal, eh? I'll need a huge amount of magical power to tear open a portal manually, but one of our alicorns should do the trick. Nihila seems like the smart choice."
Summer raised an eyebrow. "I won't say I know much about your world there, but isn't she… y'know, evil?"
"That she is, but it's the logical decision," Winter said matter-of-factly. She tapped her head with a hoof. "Think about it. I've got three weeks to get these sheilas home—four if we're lucky—and a trip from here to Utopia to see Harmonia will be cuttin' that awfully close, and that's assumin' we can get a flight out of Hope's Point easily."
"Hmm… yeah, I suppose it might be risky tryin' to make it all that way in such a short time, especially if you don't have a guarantee of transportation."
"Not to mention that my wilderness survival trainin' isn't exactly up to par for a group that size; I took advanced combat trainin' for my elective."
"You would do that wouldn't you?" Summer chuckled. "Well, why not just take a direct flight from your city, though? Don't they offer that?"
"Because I'd have to get seven tickets, and the prices, let me tell ya, they'd blow your bleedin' socks off. You'd have to be richer than rich to afford seven of the things; eight, technically, since I'd need to make a round trip. HQ can't just make that many bits appear out of thin air, eh?"
"Well shoot, that's a fine pickle then."
"Strewth. So, I don't think I could safely get them down south in time. If I had an extra month I might risk it since we'd be able to take it slow and steady, but not with this itinerary."
"Still, you think Nihila would actually help you?"
Winter tilted her head. "Yeah, why wouldn't she?"
"Because she's, uh, evil, doncha know? I think we've established that."
Winter dismissed the worry with a wave of her hoof. "No worries, mate. She might be evil, but she's not stupid. Those six leavin' your world caused a shift in the balance, yeah? Well then their arrival would logically do the same here. Look, I'll prove it."
Winter took out her Timekeeper, popped it open, and twisted a few dials to display some graphs and figures on the screen, which she then showed to Summer. "See? It's not a very big swing, but my world's got an imbalance brewin' too ever since those sheilas showed up. Hell, should just get worse the longer they're here."
"Okay, so… what does that mean for your plan?" Summer asked.
"Simple: like I said, Nihila isn't stupid, and she's likely already realized that Harmonia is the dominant power now, even if only by a fraction of a percent. She won't stand for that, and I'm willin' to bet she'd be glad to bring things back to normal, which means sendin' these mares packin'."
Summer gulped. "What is she, uh… thinks killin' 'em might be easier?"
"If she does, all the energy that's causin' the imbalance'll just stay in this world and she won't be able to get rid of it, and I'll make sure she understands that. Sendin' those girls home is the only option she has. I just have to get in contact with her… which I don't know how to do," Winter admitted.
"Is that gonna be difficult?"
"It might take some time, but hopefully not too much. Now that we've got a plan in action, I can have those six sheilas lend me a hoof in figurin' things out, eh? No worries at all."
"Well, if you think it'll work, I'll trust your judgement on this. You know more about your world than I do. I'll try and keep things calm over here to buy you as much time as I can, doncha know."
"That'll do nicely."
Summer smiled. "Okee doke then, just keep in touch, and… hmm…?"
Winter raised an eyebrow. "Eh? What's wrong, mate?"
Summer shook her head and rubbed her eyes. "Sorry. I think you might be right about me gettin' some sleep. I could swear I saw somethin'— look out!"
A split second later, and Winter would be just a bloody smear on her own video screen.
As luck would have it, she had very good reflexes.
A black-clad pegasus bounced off of her as she ducked at the last second. His gleaming dagger twirled over her head, embedding itself in the monitor and shorting it out.
Winter breathed rapidly. The blade had barely nicked her ear.
Her assailant did not remain disoriented for long; he was upon her again, a violent flash of blue and black.
"Crikey! What the bloody—"
She ducked out of the way of a swift buck.
"That's the idea!" The pegasus laughed. "A Chronomancer, eh? I thought your order was just a fable. Well, sorry about this, my little clock cleaner, but your time has run out. Ha!"
Winter sneered and steadied herself. "Great, here come the puns," she muttered to herself.
The pegasus unsheathed another knife and bolted towards her, a maddened demon out for blood.
She lit her horn and waited until he was point-blank, then blasted him with a steam of ice-cold magic.
He slammed into the low ceiling, but quickly shrugged it off. He grinned down at her like a madpony and licked his lips. "You've got some fight in you!" he growled. "I haven't had to work for a kill in ages, darling. You're making this fun. I think I'm in love."
She didn't reply, merely steadied herself for his next attempt, keeping her horn lit and her jaw set.
"No witty retorts? Come on now, I thought we had something special here," he chortled. When she didn't give him the satisfaction, he huffed. "Well then, if you're not going to be fun, let's just get this over with."
He rushed at her again. She expected another charge and was ready to blast him.
He surprised her by flinging his dagger towards her; she had to raise a smaller shield at an awkward angle to deflect the blade. It was enough for him to close in and tackle her.
They rolled together and slammed into the doorway of the clock, tumbled into the apartment den, and crashed through the coffee table. Winter felt her head slam through one of the table legs; that'd leave a nasty bruise for sure.
He pinned her when they came to a stop at the sofa. She saw that at least he'd been hurt too. Blood dripped from his mouth; shards of glass were embedded around his eye; one tooth was chipped.
Those injuries didn't stop him from putting pressure on her throat or giving a low, self-assured laugh.
She lit her horn, but did not blast him away; he was heavy enough that it might not work and would just waste her energy. But, with his attention all on her, he couldn't see behind him where her magic was gathering and freezing moisture in the air.
Just to sell the image, though, she used a little magic—a pitiful amount, really, since simultaneous spellcasting was difficult—to weakly push him away; naturally, he didn't budge an inch. He just laughed at the attempt.
"So, this is it then?" he snickered. "I take back what I said: you're boring. Once I found out what you were, I was expecting more from this encounter. A witty back-and-forth while we traded blows, maybe? A little more fighting spirit? A challenge, maybe?"
She struggled to keep his hooves from crushing her windpipe, not easy given his size compared to her, but she managed. She just needed a few more seconds; just a little more ice.
"Look at you, writhing on the floor like every other desperate victim out there, just as worthless as a common whore," he said, shaking his head. "I went through a lot of trouble coming up with different ways I was going to kill you, but this? This isn't even fun. No pleading, no choking for air? Even your face doesn't look scared enough!"
She clenched her teeth. Just a little more.
His jovial smile dropped entirely; now he just looked angry. "Come on!" he spat. "Say something! Beg for your life at least, you stupid bitch!" He pressed down on her throat harder, practically throttling her. "Cry out for mercy! Beg! Beg, damn you!"
She muttered something under her breath, too quiet for him to hear.
That brought his smile back. "There, was that so hard? You're going to have to speak up though." The pressure on her windpipe let up just slightly, and he leaned in close. "What was that?"
Her panicked expression—fake, of course—turned into a cheeky grin. Though it hurt to breathe, she managed to get out the words clear as crystal: "You talk too much."
He let out a yowl of agonizing pain as a spear of ice pierced through his midsection, clipping through the base of his left wing. The ice melted as soon as Winter dropped her focus on it to blast him off of her.
The pegasus slammed hard against the adjacent wall, giving Winter ample time to get up and recover, coughing all the while now that she could breathe again.
When she glanced over at him, she could see a certain fire in his eyes. If he wasn't mad before—
Then, to her surprise, he vanished into the shadows of the corner, melting into them like water.
It came so out of the blue that Winter wasn't sure what to make of it. She wracked her brain trying to think of what kind of magic—unicorn magic—that was and how a pegasus was using it.
She almost didn't notice him reappear in the shadows behind her, almost didn't notice him approach. But, thanks to his injured wing, he wasn't able to move swiftly and silently through the air; he had to step on broken glass and shattered wood.
She turned in time to duck another dagger thrust; where was he getting all these knives from, anyway?
He was quick, far too quick for an average pony to handle. Winter's remarkable reflexes were the only thing keeping her from getting impaled. He was ferocious when he was angry, but she preferred him like this: quiet.
After dodging a few thrusts, she went on the offensive, not with her magic but by slamming her hoof up into his jaw. He hadn't expected it—nopony expects a unicorn to use their hooves in combat—and fell back after the strike; she might be much smaller than he was, but she knew how to hit and hit hard.
She moved to press the advantage, leaping forward to clock him again.
He just slipped away into the shadows, vanishing beneath her as she landed on the floor.
"So, that's how it's gonna be?" she muttered.
She recognized the magic now. Umbramancy. Shadow magic. A very potent magic school that allowed one to manipulate shadows. In his case, he could move through them and appear anywhere else in the room. How a pegasus could use it she didn't know, but there was no mistaking it.
But Umbramancy had one key weakness: it required shadows to manipulate in the first place.
Winter took a deep breath and quick-charged a potent light spell; it was taxing on her magic, but it would solve the problem right here and now.
The spell struck the ceiling and cast several bright glares throughout the room, like miniature suns on a cloudless summer day. The light cascaded around the room in an instant, bright enough that Winter had to squint so she wasn't blinded.
The room was engulfed in light. No shadows. No place to hide.
The pegasus stood just a few feet to her left, his good wing hastily lifted to shield his eyes from the glare.
And she was ready for him.
One blast from her horn knocked him back. Another slammed him into the window, hard enough to shatter the glass.
And another shoved him right outside.
She was surprised to see him tumble and fall; she'd expected him to take flight, actually.
She cautiously stepped over to the window, horn aglow. She was no fool; he could be hovering just beneath the windowsill, waiting for her to lean over so he could pull her outside.
But she was ready.
She did, in fact, lean out the window to see where he'd gone, her magic prepped to slam his face into the side of the building if he tried anything.
But when she glanced down, he wasn't there. To the left? Nothing. The right? Nothing. Above her? Nothing.
He was gone. If he'd fallen down to the alley below, she couldn't see him from this high up; if he'd taken off into the sky, the smog was so thick up there that she couldn't see him through it. Plus, with that Umbramancy, he might have very well slipped into the shadow of the building.
So, as far as she could tell, he was gone without a trace.
"Shit," she muttered as she backed up into the room. "Guess I'm not askin' him any questions."
She shook her head and walked over to her grandfather clock. The door was busted open completely, the glass of the window shattered and strewn about the room.
Winter stepped inside and used her magic to close the door, putting a shield spell over it to keep it shut. It wouldn't be a permanent solution, but she didn't need it to be.
With that done, she grabbed her Timekeeper off the desk where she'd left it, then tapped a few buttons on the keyboard in front of her broken monitor. "Summer? Are ya still there?"
No response.
"Summer Rains? This is Winter Glow, reportin' in. Do ya read me?"
The speakers on the station gave a low crackle, followed by a familiar voice.
"Winter?!"
Winter let out a breath, relieved that the station hadn't been completely busted. "Good to hear ya, Summer. Where were we? I think we were gettin' ready to move—"
"Forget that shit! For cripe's sake, girl, are you okay?!"
"Yeah, I'm alright," Winter said, brushing her ear with a hoof; it was still bleeding, but not as badly. It'd leave a scar for sure, though. "Been better."
"What the hell just happened? Why can't I see you?"
"Just some yobbo tryin' to take my head off. He broke the monitor, so we're stuck with audio only."
Winter couldn't see Summer's face but she could just hear the other mare's indignant expression. "How can you be so calm when somepony just tried to kill you?"
"What good would it do me to be in a panic? I'll let you do the panickin' for me, thanks very much."
Summer grumbled. "Winter…"
"Relax, Summer, no worries here, eh? I dealt with the bastard for now, and if I've got time I'll try to figure out why he attacked me, but we've still got work to do. What's HQ's motto? 'Stiff Upper Lip' and all that shit? I just gotta keep movin' forward."
"You never cease to amaze me, Winter. Fine. I'll work on my end to keep things smooth and safe to buy you all the time you need to find a way to send those girls home."
"Good. Now obviously, I'm not gonna be in normal contact over the comin' weeks. Protocol says that I've gotta recycle my TARDIS in the event of a breach and all that. Can't exactly live here in this apartment, either, so I'll have to work somethin' out."
"Aw geez, Winter, I hope you're gonna be okay…"
Even though Summer couldn't see her, Winter smiled. "I'll be fine, mate. Just worry about yourself and the work on your end, and let me worry about me."
"Okay…"
"I'll try and get ya some updates over the Timekeeper when I can. I know it's limited, but hey, we gotta work with what we've got. At least I've still got it on me, eh? Imagine if I'd lost it! Ha!"
"Winter, you're a dope sometimes, but nopony's stupid enough to misplace their Timekeeper." Summer sighed. "Take care of yourself. Be safe."
"You too, Summer."
Another crackle from the speakers, and then silence.
Winter sighed, took her Timekeeper out of the grandfather clock with her—dropping her shield in the process—and grabbed her scarf off the rack by the door. With a glance towards the clock, she twisted her Timekeeper's dial twice, then rapidly clicked it several times.
The clock glowed white for a brief instant, then dimmed, now nothing more than a normal grandfather clock. The pocket dimension beyond had been sent back to HQ to be recycled. A shame, really; she'd just gotten the place looking the way she liked it.
She made sure she grabbed a few supplies and stuffed them into some saddlebags before she left; she wouldn't be coming back here for a while yet—with all the damages to the apartment she'd be thrown out anyway—so she'd need to take as many necessities as possible: her identification; a few tubes of Dolor products; a spare scarf, beret, and turtleneck identical to the ones she was wearing; and all the bits she had.
Satisfied with her preparations, Winter headed out her door without even bothering to grab her keys.
Chapter Five: Changes
Shadows played across the massive expanse of the dining room floor, seeping into the corners and blanketing the walls. A series of dim lights, flickering in and out softly, did little beyond casting a faint glow across the central table. A solid black tablecloth covered the table, obscuring it in the darkness and giving the illusion that the rows of thin, wax candles floated in their golden holders. Plates, bowls, glasses, forks and spoons; the table was set for ten.
This morning, as with every morning, it seated just one.
Silvertongue lifted a large berry to his mouth from a near-empty bowl, his fork steady and firm. He eyed it for consistency and color before eating it whole. For several seconds, he savored the bite, whisking the berry around in his mouth before swallowing. He then pushed the empty bowl away and levitated over a plate of genuine, fluffy pancakes, topped with more of the same berries dripping in their own juices.
Magmaberries were his favorite, and as such were utilized quite often in his diet. The name was for a variety of factors that the berries had: the lava-like consistency of their juicy interiors; their rich color, a deep, burnt red with bright orange and yellow splotches of which no two berries ever had the same pattern; and, their extremely spicy flavor with a savory-sweet aftertaste.
Like any berry, they were capable of being made into just about anything: they went well on their own as snacks, but were best frozen or deep-fried; they worked well as toppings or stuffing for pancakes, waffles, or any other baked goods, where the sugary sweetness helped overpower the heat; they even made delicious syrups, sauces, and dips, especially when roasted or blended.
As Silvertongue took a sip from his glass, he delighted in his favorite purpose for them: the best wine in the world. The flavor was so strong that it overpowered the alcohol content almost entirely; one did not drink magmaberry wine if their intent was inebriation. This only came through an excruciating process that was substantially more dangerous than just picking the berries themselves, and those only grew around the active volcanoes of the Redblade Mountains.
But a properly-made bottle of the finest magmaberry wine was a truly emotional experience. It was as though it had been fermented with pleasure and agony, all the best and worst sensations one pony could ever hope to experience in a lifetime, let alone two or more. The emotional state of the pony imbibing in it affected its flavor from their perspective. If they were sad, the wine could send them into a deep depression; if they were happy, it could fill them with an ecstatic elation.
Or so the enthusiasts would claim.
Silvertongue enjoyed his remaining breakfast one piece at a time, thoroughly scanning the morning's data report as he ate; he did not partake in a single newspaper, but a complete compilation of all the publications together.
The buzz of the intercom drew his attention. "Sir, sorry to interrupt your breakfast, but I have urgent news."
He dabbed his mouth with a napkin, then pressed the intercom button. "Yes, Shroud? What is it?"
"Um… it's regarding Shadowstep, sir."
Silvertongue's nostrils flared. He never took Shadowstep for an idiot that would disregard protocol that required he contact him first. "What news does he bring then?" he asked as he lifted his fork to take another bite of food.
"W-well, that's the thing, sir. He's… he's dead."
Silvertongue paused, his eyes widening just slightly from pure shock. He nearly dropped his fork.
"Sir?"
"I'm sorry, Shroud, but I'm afraid I must have misheard you," he said, his voice barely staying level enough to hide his surprise. "Did you just say that he's dead?"
"Y-yes sir. Tower security found him just inside the perimeter and… and Nurse Soft Touch pronounced him dead two minutes ago, cause of death being severe internal bleeding. I just double-checked to ensure the information was accurate before bringing it to your attention."
Silvertongue took a breath and calmly set his fork down on his plate, his mind suddenly racing as he tried to parse this information together. This was a far different outcome than anything he'd expected. At worst—and this was a long shot—he'd expected Shadowstep to have allowed his targets to notice him, for them to escape and hide somewhere that would take time and resources to uncover; he'd accounted for that possibility and was even prepared to forgive it if Shadowstep had brought him any useful information.
The thought that the idiot would get himself killed was so far down his list of possible outcomes that he'd have been less surprised if Harmonia herself had gotten wind of what was happening and personally came to destroy Nihila while their powers were off-balance, which of course was impossible.
"I see. Thank you, Shroud. Have his belongings sent up to me immediately, specifically his recording drive. In fact… just the recording drive will do. Dispose of his suit and weapons."
"Yes sir, right away. Shall I send word to the nurse that you'll be coming to view the body?"
Silvertongue thought about the suggestion for a brief moment.
Shadowstep, his supposed master assassin, was dead. The circumstances on how he had died—specifically what or who had killed him and how—would likely be interesting. The pegasus typically just killed his targets quickly and quietly; for him to have been injured and killed meant somepony had managed to spot him and then fight back, and extremely well at that.
However, it wasn't the how of Shadowstep's death that really mattered, not now nor in the long run.
Shadowstep had been on a very specific assignment, and unless the idiot picked a fight with some random passer-by in the street, there were only six culprits. No, one; he'd suspected the involvement of a Chronomancer, after all, and had ordered Shadowstep to deal with them if given the opportunity. He'd clearly attempted as much and failed, that much could be extrapolated from this information; the specifics of how it happened didn't matter.
The Chronomancer was clearly not somepony to trifle with lightly.
The why, though, that was the crux of the issue.
"No. Have them proceed with standard disposal procedures, and wipe his records from the archives," he said after his moment's thought. "Any other news to report?"
"No sir. I'll have that drive up to you in just a moment. Anything else I can do, sir?"
"That'll be all, Shroud, thank you."
With that, the intercom was off and Silvertongue was left to his own thoughts again.
Today had suddenly become… quite intriguing.
*****
Silvertongue strolled into his office just after he'd finished breakfast, a tiny device held in his magic that he'd retrieved from Shadowstep's belongings. It was a recording drive which, as its name implied, recorded everything that Shadowstep saw or heard and then stored it onto a portable drive that could be reviewed and annotated at a later time.
He took the device and inserted it into a socket on his desk, revealing an electronic display that sprung upright from the desk's previously flat surface. The device glowed dull blue as Silvertongue's computer interfaced with it; multiple notices and alerts flickered across the screen.
Silvertongue grunted, annoyed that the idiot pegasus hadn't bothered to update his software in, from what Silvertongue could tell, seven weeks. It took a few swipes of his hoof to bat the annoyances away and start sorting through the most recent files, at which point he found the report on Shadowstep's recent assignment fairly easily.
It appeared as a black box with neon green text strewn about and highly-detailed full-color images in the margins. Silvertongue gazed upon it, his eyes darting across as he began to read along. It was incomplete, no doubt in part due to Shadowstep's death, so Silvertongue only had direct recordings to use rather than supplementing them with Shadowstep's summarized notes; it would take longer, but that was no matter.
He noted that Shadowstep had divided each section neatly and that everything was tidily organized, just as he expected of any of his subordinates. He inwardly chuckled at the irony that he prefered everything neat and organized, yet the city he ruled was as disorganized as possible.
Each of the six mares from the prior evening's report had their own section with a wide multitude of notes; Twilight Sparkle's and Applejack's were noticeably shorter, though not so much so that it was a negative, apparently because they'd been in a public place and been harder to spy upon. Still, there was more information here than SIlvertongue had initially asked for, or even expected.
If Shadowstep were alive, Silvertongue would have forgiven him for being late to their meeting, probably even given him a little commendation for the effort. A shame he'd gotten himself killed. He'd been a useful asset over the last decade.
His eyes narrowed as he read the first part of the report, which regarded how Shadowstep had obtained a large portion of his information. The pegasus had adopted the guise of a CIA agent and interviewed an Officer Snapshot, whose name had appeared on the forms that they had reviewed prior to his mission. Just a filing clerk from all appearances, but one that was well-versed in the system and eager to help.
That Shadowstep had subsequently killed the mare was, in his eyes, a necessary evil. If the CIA got wind that one of their agents—one that didn't exist, at that—was involved in the situation, they might try to weasel their way into things sooner than he wanted.
He knew full well that the Committee would stymie his efforts just by merely being anywhere within a hundred miles of the situation. The damned fools would draw too much attention, alert too many ponies, and probably actively involve themselves with these six mares, making it that much more difficult to continue with any of his own efforts covertly.
He could only hope that Shadowstep had been discreet in dealing with the situation, but just to be sure, he'd have his technician, Hard Drive, hack into the surveillance system and ensure that as little evidence as possible was left behind; if Shadowstep was as dutiful as Silvertongue typically expected, Hard Drive was likely already working on it.
Then came the second page of the report, and Silvertongue's mouth curled in a grin as his suspicions were confirmed. A Chronomancer was indeed involved with the situation. More than that, she had been conferring with a counterpart of some sort that hailed from the world that these six mares had originated from. They'd even been discussing sending the mares home where they belonged.
After so many years, all of the theories had been proven true: Chronomancers did indeed deal with the nature of worlds beyond this one. Oh, what he wouldn't give to learn more about how their order and their magics worked. How many worlds were there out there? Were they all similar to his own? Were they different? How different? What purpose did Chronomancers truly serve in these worlds? What was their connection with Void energy?
He had so many questions that it was difficult to keep track of them all. If he had the resources, he'd likely spend countless hours researching the answers and then some, quenching his thirst for knowledge of the unknown. A shame the Chronomancers were so secretive; Shadowstep likely didn't realize just how lucky he'd been to bear witness to what he did.
But that wasn't important. What was important was how the situation that now presented itself could be used to Silvertongue's advantage. He sighed lightly to himself as he perused the report more thoroughly.
The profiles on these six "aliens" were fascinating. It was already substantially obvious that the "Ponyville" story was either a total fabrication or an incredibly odd truth, and he now knew it was the latter. The mare Applejack spoke of the place as though it were real and even mentioned working on a farm with her family. If the mare were being false then she was a natural liar with a skill that impressed even Silvertongue.
Knowing it was true was amusing. Did all towns and cities in their homeworld utilize pony-related puns for naming? That was both incredibly creative and incredibly quaint at the same time; it would take a lot of creativity to come up with enough to populate a nation with such settlements. Surely some would be a bit of a stretch once enough puns had been exhausted.
Another interesting tidbit was that nobody had mentioned yet that the six mares all had accents that would be somewhat easy to identify and that there was no way that the group came from outside the city despite their appearances otherwise, with a single exception.
Rarity, for example, had an accent that suggested she was from Whiteworth Heights, though her focus on fashion might have suggested Moonlight Hills. If one was unfamiliar with the differences in dialect, they might have even been fooled, but Rarity placed certain emphasis on certain words that should have given it away. Both of those were northern suburbs of the Romantique District, a part of the Inner Districts well-known for its fashion, food, and romantic culture, as well as its wealth.
And not a single pony had questioned why this mare had the same distinct dialect of the wealthy, fashion-conscious, and attractive members of some of the city's elite. Granted, it would take somepony with keen observation skills and knowledge of accents, dialects, slang, and the like to notice it, but still, it peeved him that such an obvious red flag had been missed.
He did note with irony that the only pony who seemed to be putting any effort into the fabrication they were going with—even if she didn't know it—was Applejack. That stetson hat perfectly matched the sort of clothing to be expected of a farmer from the southern continent, and her accent was a dead-on accurate impression of ponies from its northern region which was known for its rich coastal farmland. A town existed there these days called Newhaven, which had a modernized port that serviced airships.
The fact that these six were all together, with their vast differences in culture and mannerisms, was all that Silvertongue needed to prove that they weren't who they said they were even without reading the rest of the report. Most ponies would just let those kinds of discrepancies slide; he was not most ponies.
The mare that Shadowstep had murdered, Snapshot, was apparently connected with a Captain Flathoof of the NPPD, who was also conveniently the parole officer for these six mares so that they'd avoid jail time as punishment for disturbing the peace with their arrival. It was more than convenient, actually. Having somepony that these six would likely trust and cooperate with would potentially serve as a tremendous advantage.
He also made note of where they lived: Southeast Point. A relatively new building from his understanding, one currently owned and operated by the Rossa crime family. How this Flathoof had connections there was a mystery—there was a mention of a “Lockwood”—but one he'd look into. More importantly, knowing where these mares lived made it much easier to monitor them. Hard Drive would have more work ahead of him, that was for certain.
Silvertongue was very curious when he re-read through the Chronomancer's page. The Chronomancer of this world was intending on sending these six mares back, that was a given that he had anticipated from the moment that theory had come to his mind. After all, otherworldly visitors hardly seemed like a normal thing, and returning them to their world of origin seemed a natural solution.
What did surprise him—the second genuinely shocking surprise of the day after hearing Shadowstep had been killed—was that the Chronomancer wanted to seek Nihila's aid. He leaned back in his seat when he read that note, briefly shaken from his thoughts. The suggestion went against nearly every possibility he'd considered until this point.
He'd expected her to suggest Harmonia. The goddess of the southern continent was so good and helpful and bright that she wouldn't have given their request a second thought before helping them. Not to mention that she was relatively easy to openly contact in comparison to Nihila; Harmonia's Warden was a public figure, while he—Nihila's Warden—did not even exist as far as the ponies of the north knew.
If it were possible to contact Harmonia from here he had no doubt she would move heaven and earth to come to the mares' aid. So why was Nihila the ideal choice?
Granted, he could understand the hesitation to make the journey from here to Utopia. The northern lands had become so twisted and dangerous that few attempted the journey from here to Hope's Point by land, and what little information he possessed suggested that fewer still actually survived the trip. Even so, he'd have figured the Chronomancer to be resourceful enough to handle such a trip and so had already begun planning ways to manipulate and hinder the journey, none of which apparently mattered now.
Still, even after reading and listening through all of the report, there was something in all this information that struck him as awfully peculiar. These six mares contained enough magic within them to shift their entire world's balance just by going missing, and this world as well just by arriving. The Chronomancer had even confirmed Nihila's observation and helpfully provided a source for the problem, as much as the Law and Chaos distinction seemed misnamed. Was it something about these "Elements" that they were related to? It was unsettling.
It was also unimportant for the time being.
What was important now was alerting Nihila to the developments and devising plans for what to do about the situation before she grew restless. He focused his mind and let his essence waft out about him, an aura of magic that would serve as a beacon for his Goddess and draw her to him like a moth to a flame. She was always watching him, of course, but only by doing this did she know he had news to deliver.
"You summoned me, my Warden?"
Nihila's voice came cool and crisp into his mind, flooding his thoughts with a soothing sensation. He shuddered at the way her essence filled him. Elation and curiosity were not emotions he was used to her feeling, but she'd clearly been delving through his surface thoughts this past hour.
"My lady, I bear news regarding those creatures I discovered."
Her spirit sparked with pleasure, sending a shiver down his spine. "Ah, you flatter me with your efficiency. I am eager to hear how they pertain to the situation."
Silvertongue began to read off information from Shadowstep's report. Every time certain strings of words were used, different sensations flooded his soul as Nihila's essence fluctuated in reaction to their meanings.
The thought that another world would soon be in its death throes seemed to please her, filling her with joyful anticipation that made Silvertongue's entire being feel what she felt. He was in near ecstasy, and only maintained a calm and controlled demeanor because of years of posturing and proper etiquette.
The knowledge that these six, these wielders of the Elements of Harmony, were responsible for the imbalance that was beginning to manifest in this world rather displeased her. That word in particular—Harmony—filled Nihila with so much loathing that it worried even Silvertongue for a brief moment, not for his own sake, but for hers. She wasn't known for subtlety when she was angry.
But, it also seemed to pique her curiosity. The longer these six remained in this world, the more the imbalance would tilt in Harmonia's favor. While it would be only a minuscule proportion, it was the principle that mattered to Nihila, Silvertongue knew. Nihila's initial thoughts were simply to have the six destroyed immediately and be done with it.
The rest of the report revealed that that wouldn't help matters whatsoever. In fact, to Nihila's surprise as well—Silvertongue could feel it in her essence—the Chronomancer wanted her help to send them back. For the first time in countless years as Nihila's Warden, Silvertongue could sense that she was utterly confused.
"It would seem that this Chronomancer is either incredibly wise, or incredibly foolish," she said to him. "Why would she deign to ask me for help? Just because it is easier? I should be insulted that she considers me the simple, convenient path to her success."
"I agree, my lady, it is quite insulting to your immense power to be treated as little more than a cheap whore that this Chronomancer can call upon to aid her," Silvertongue snorted, knowing his choice of words would anger her briefly, which it did. "Perhaps we should contact her instead, demonstrate your reach and might and remind her that you are the true power here in the north?"
Nihila's essence tittered in appreciation. "Yes, that might do nicely. I will make this wretch beg me to send these pathetic mares back to their miserable home. She will regret this insult—"
"Or…"
Nihila paused. "Hmm? 'Or', my Warden? What thoughts dwell in that wonderful mind of yours?"
Silvertongue brushed the thought aside with his hoof and retook his seat. "Ah, nevermind, my lady. It was a foolish thought, it would never work."
"You sell yourself short, my Warden, for I have never known your schemes to be unsuccessful. I would hear this thought of yours. I command you: tell me."
"Well, my lady, as we know, the Chronomancer has no knowledge of how to contact you, which of course would be through me," he said, pacing slightly behind his desk. "While we could just contact her and get this entire debacle over with, I think that perhaps it would be in our interests to let her find me herself."
"Hmm… explain. What use do we get out of allowing those six mares to continue to strengthen Harmonia's influence? Their presence in our world is akin to a virus, and I will not have us simply let this infection run its course. They may believe that staying here longer would be a… good thing."
"Ah, that's just it, my lady: they're the key to all of this, whether it pleases you or not. These six mares clearly have enough power in them somehow that their very presence in our world has shifted the balance of the world in Harmonia's favor, correct?"
"Indeed, as I have said, but— ahh… I see what your mind is planning." Nihila's voice became soothing again and melted into him. "Perhaps we can convince them that Harmonia is not as benevolent as she seems? That her name is nonindictative, and that they should want our aid all the more? Yes, then they will gladly accept a hasty retreat."
Silvertongue grinned. "You're half right, my lady. Yes, perhaps we can convince them of that, and we can use them to our advantage in that endeavor. What if, when they seek out our aid, we manipulated them into serving your whims and desires? We could utilize them as weapons against Harmonia."
Nihila bristled at the concept of being weaker than Nihila, a thought that made Silvertongue's skin crawl. "Yes… yes, I see the wisdom in this plan of yours. But I see not the method for which you believe we can accomplish it. I cannot compel them to obey me directly; their connection to these 'Elements' is alien to me, and their minds and bodies will resist my attempts to corrupt their spirits."
Silvertongue grinned. It was a smug grin, hinting at the clever idea that she had yet to guess. "Ah, but my lady, perhaps you won't need to force them into accepting our offer? If they are seeking our help in the first place, would it not be in our best interest to appear to them as benevolent? To offer our aid to them and only ask for one simple thing in return? That would be when we strike."
"I do not envision them waiting patiently to ally themselves with us when their desire to return home is so great. Should you reveal yourself to them, my Warden, they will surely pester you with this request, and denial of it might turn them away and turn them towards Harmonia's accursed Light."
"Precisely, milady."
He grinned wider and leaned contentedly back into his chair.
"I am not in the position to carry out such an errand anyway. While I have a simple understanding of their personalities, there are a great many things I lack that I would need to adequately convince them that I have their best interests at heart. The Chronomancer acknowledges your nature, after all, and that would logically extend to me as well, would it not?"
"Naturally. All the more reason I see not how this plan of yours could work."
"That is only because concepts such as benevolence and compassion are so contrary to your very nature, my lady. It is not an insult to insinuate that a being of your repute could never hope to understand the inner workings of such innocent minds." He tapped a hoof to his head. "But I do."
Nihila laughed; her mirth was unexpected and rather chilling, like being dunked into a lake that had frozen over. "An innocent mind, my Warden? You? I have seen the atrocities you have committed. The horrors you have unleashed in my name, at my urging. What do you know of innocence?"
"Ah, that might be so, but you recall that I did not always serve you, my lady," he said with a smirk.
"A fair point…" she admitted; it was rare for her to admit a mistake or misunderstanding, and to him felt equally alien. "Carry on, then."
He cleared his throat. "Now, I do not have an intimate knowledge of these mares' psyches, their hearts' desires, their hopes and dreams, or the qualities of their souls. I do not know how deeply connected they are amongst themselves, nor do I know which particular buttons to push to elicit my desired reactions.
"And further, I don't even know which of them exemplifies which Element, apart from Twilight Sparkle who was mentioned directly, and these Elements may prove key to understanding them fully. Though, I may be able to fathom a guess to a few; this report is detailed enough that I could do so given time. But no, I do not believe I am qualified to coerce them."
"You have a plan in mind already, my Warden?"
Nihila forcefully felt her way through his thoughts. His plan wafted through his mind, and she picked it apart and understood it as if it had been her own. She seemed elated to find her Warden was such a resourceful thinker, but then again he knew he always had been; it's why she chose him for the position, after all.
"Ah, you are a most devious schemer. If we cannot coerce them into my grasp directly, perhaps we can do so indirectly. A brilliant idea."
"I thank you, my lady, for your praise." He smiled, feeling a tear come to his left eye as her sensations of warm pride filled his heart, another rare occurrence. "I shall begin my task immediately. While we seem to have a pleasantly broad window to work with, it would be prudent to utilize our time to its fullest, wouldn't you agree?"
Nihila cooed, "I will leave you to your work, my Warden. Call for me again when you are ready to proceed, and I will assist you with the final phase. Until then, I will monitor the Belt of Tranquility and continue my observations of their effect on the balance there."
"Indeed, my lady. I thank you for your blessings."
He felt Nihila's essence leave his mind and spirit. He shook off the feeling of emptiness, a sensation he would never grow accustomed to no matter how many times over how many years he had experienced it. Once his mind was at ease and his wits were gathered, he clicked a button on the table, turning on the intercom.
"Shroud."
"Yes, sir?"
"I need you to make a few calls."
*****
The little box that sat upon the den table of room eighty-four and five was a peculiar device. Flathoof had called it a "Teevee" or something to that effect. It was quite alien to the Ponyville natives, capable of displaying images like how movie projectors back home did, only with a different technology. Twilight had spent a great deal of time trying to discern how the device operated, and even now sat glued to the rear of the device, rather than the front.
"—just pay shipping and handling. And if you call now—"
Click.
"—I'll keelhaul ya, ya scurvy dog! I've got—"
Click.
"—terrible news, Mister and Misses Fudge. Your son is—"
Click.
"—pregnant?! How can you be pregnant, we never even—"
Click.
"—made a scrumptious cake! Best of all, decorating cakes is—"
Click.
"Heeeyyy, I was watching that…" Pinkie said, her eyes as big as dinner plates.
Flathoof leaned to the side to keep her from snagging the remote back. "We can watch your cooking program later, Miss Pie. It's almost eight o'clock, and we need to watch the news. Since you're new around here, you might just learn something."
"Awww…"
The couch in their den was much too small for all of them to sit on, so Rainbow, Applejack, and Pinkie sat on the floor in front, letting Fluttershy and Rarity use the couch proper. Flathoof continued to stand off to the side. He'd arrived about an hour earlier that morning, waking most of them up to get them started on their day. Rarity had made several complaints about interrupting her beauty sleep, none of which were paid any heed to.
With another click, the image upon the Teevee changed again. A delightfully engaging jingle played over a background displaying many sweeping vistas of New Pandemonium City. Bright, shiny gold text floated down from the upper corner of the screen, twisting through the center to surround a circular silver emblem bearing a large, glittering number one.
"You are watching Channel One Eyewitness News in the Morning. With Daybreak—"
The text was swept off the screen to reveal the moving image of a unicorn stallion with a lustrous golden coat and a short, tidy, bright blue mane. He wore a fancy dress suit with a matching tie. The stallion was giving a broad, rehearsed smile that gleamed in an unseen spotlight.
"—and Butter Pecan in the studio—"
The image of a white earth pony mare replaced that of Daybreak. Her curly, cream-colored mane matched the color of her own sleek dress suit, though she wore no tie. She gave a broad grin to the audience as well, and proudly crossed her hooves in front of her chest.
"Featuring Meteorologist, Clarity, with the weather—"
Now, a dull brown pegasus mare replaced the image of Butter Pecan. She kept her shiny black mane slicked-back and wore a dusty jacket with a matching bow tie. She just stared ahead, no smile upon her face at all.
"Stalwart, with sports—"
A burly, sky blue earth pony with a brown mane kept in a short crew cut appeared next. His sports coat was stretched to its limit to fit his physique. He didn't so much smile at the audience as give them an assured, confident nod.
"And Skyline with the traffic—"
A lithe pegasus stallion appeared next, sea green in color with a whitish-green mane styled back in a ponytail. He wore a decorated flight jacket and a pair of matching goggles. He gave the screen a brisk salute, snapping to attention as he did so.
"Hey, that pony's got style," Rainbow said, nudging Pinkie in the side. "He might be almost as cool as me."
"This… is Channel One Eyewitness News in the Morning."
The image shifted to show the first two ponies, Daybreak and Butter Pecan, sitting behind a desk and shuffling papers in front of them.
"Good morning everypony," said Daybreak, light gleaming off his smile. "Today's top stories—"
As he started to speak, his image shifted slightly to the left. Beside him, the tiny image of a red cross appeared.
"Hoof rot season so soon? New Pandemonium Medical reports a rise in cases of the serious disease early this year, and are recommending action be taken by every citizen to prevent the spread."
The image next to him changed into that of a great inferno towering over several buildings. "Also, yesterday's major fire in the northeast Outer District has still not been contained by the New Pandemonium Fire Brigade, and is beginning to spread further outwards in the district. Authorities are worried it may soon spread into Mid-East and Mid-North if efforts to stop it fail."
The image beside him shifted away, leaving just Daybreak again in the center of the screen. "First though, here's your weekly weather forecast with Clarity."
Flathoof snorted. "Seriously? Get to the news about the fire! Nopony wants to hear about the damned weather right now!"
The image panned over to the pegasus mare, Clarity, who was standing in front of a large green screen that quickly flickered to reveal a map of the city with lots of colored splotches plastered across it.
The map was perfectly circular, ironically organized into very precise districts. In the center was the Inner District, the smallest of the three major divisions, which was itself divided into several sub-districts with odd names that Twilight noticed were named after languages, such as Baroque, Romantique, and Sovia.
Just beyond that and covering roughly twice the area were the Mid Districts. She saw that theirs, Mid-South, was covered in the least of the colors, excepting the Inner Districts. The Outer District covered double the area of the Mid Districts, and was divided into two sections: the Outer District itself, and the much smaller area in the south labeled Gate District.
The weatherpony Clarity lazily pointed out a bunch of the splotches of color, and as she traced her hoof along the map, the image slowly changed to reflect the movement of the colors. She didn't seem particularly fascinated with her job.
"Weather forecast for this week," she said in a steady monotone. "Smog today, smog tomorrow, more smog the day after that. Smog all week folks, nothing new. Temperatures are staying steady in the mid-80's, though citizens in Mid-East and Mid-North may notice temperature spikes as that big fire starts moving towards them. I recommend turning on your air-conditioning."
She yawned, then pointed to a big red cloud over Mid-West. "Citizens of Mid-West are advised not to go outside without protective gear for the next three days, starting tonight. All signs point to a freak acid rain storm. Weather teams from Mid-South and the Inner Districts will attempt to divert it, but are not expecting to be able to do much except contain it."
She yawned again. "That's all for the weather, but we'll be back for a second look at the end of today's reports. Back to you, Daybreak."
"Thanks Clarity." Daybreak beamed, his teeth shining bright as ever, and turned to his other side. The image shifted with him. "Now over to Skyline with the morning's traffic report. Skyline?"
Now, the image switched from in the studio to that of the pegasus stallion, Skyline. It stayed steady behind him as he flew through a few smog layers above a particularly busy area of the city, where other pegasi were busy dodging one another for seemingly no reason at all.
They all seemed to be constraining themselves between two lines of floating, bright green lights that wound through the taller buildings. There was a blue line in between the two green ones, with pegasi on one side flying north, while those on the other side were flying south. The two halves were further divided into fourths by white lines, and these were the ones that the pegasi constrained themselves to the most.
The northbound side was where the trouble came in. Two of the three lines of white were instead flashing red, and no pegasi were flying between them.
"Thanks, Daybreak. As you can see, there's some heavy congestion this morning on Northbound Airway Intercity Thirteen caused by a malfunction in the two of the three guiding lines. Traffic Control estimates a three-to-four hour delay for repairs. I'd recommend taking ground routes instead if you're headed for Mid-North, and either Air Intercity Twelve or Fourteen if you're headed anywhere else."
The image shifted downwards towards the city streets, which looked just as congested with all the pegasi above swooping down to take the street level.
"To all of our unicorn and earth pony pedestrians down there, please be on the lookout for wayward pegasi taking illegal highway exits. NPPD units are already en route to try and direct the flow of traffic, but the estimated arrival time isn't for another hour. Now back to you in the studio."
"Thank you, Skyline. We'll be back to you for an update shortly." Daybreak smiled brightly and turned to his left, towards the mare sitting beside him. "Now to Butter Pecan with our top story of the day. Pecan?"
Butter Pecan spoke in a cheerful, though focused tone as the image shifted to her. "Good morning everypony. Today's top story! Hoof rot season is striking our fair city early this year, and there have already been numerous reports of it spreading quickly through the Outer District areas. Doctors are recommending immunization measures be taken as soon as possible. We have more from our correspondent at Central General, Hotwire."
The image shifted from the studio again, this time to a young unicorn stallion standing in a pristine white hallway, holding a microphone with his magic. His coat was a shiny purple, his mane a neatly-combed orange with red streaks. He sported a gold jacket and a matching tie.
To his left stood another unicorn, this one with an off-white coat. His olive green mane and tail spiked out and stood at attention, and from their luster it was apparent he used a great deal of product to keep them so straight. His eyes were obscured by his large lab goggles, and he wore a beige lab coat that draped all around his form.
"Thank you, Butter Pecan," Hotwire said. "I'm here at Central General where the reports of hoof rot being on the rise early this season were first discovered. With me is New Pandemonium Chief of Medicine, Doctor Blutsauger."
The white unicorn nodded with a soft smile as his name was mentioned.
Hotwire turned, hovering his microphone over for the other unicorn to use. "Doctor, tell us a little more about what exactly you've discovered."
The white unicorn coughed into his hoof and adjusted his goggles, then spoke into the microphone. "Ja, well, for the past few hours we have been getting calls from our clinics in the Outer District about these hoof rot incidents. Typically, hoof rot is an early spring illness, und ponies would have plenty of time to get their annual immunization shots. But, if hoof rot were to begin spreading early, before most of the city got their immunizations?"
The doctor then turned dramatically towards the screen. "We'd be looking at… an epidemic." He then turned back to Hotwire. "That was good, ja?"
Twilight noted the doctor's Weimarian accent, a little less thick than that photographer who took an interest in Fluttershy years ago. Photo Finish was her name? It seemed that at least across different worlds the assorted cultures still had some recognizable traits.
Hotwire coughed nervously, his eyes darting back and forth between the screen and the doctor. He tilted the microphone back towards himself. "What sorts of actions are being taken to prevent such an occurrence?" Then, he tilted it back towards Blutsauger.
Blutsauger crossed his hooves in front of his chest and nodded firmly. "I have spoken to the rest of the Committee directly und shown them mein research. They agreed that it would be better to practice caution than to risk toying with the lives of our citizens. I believe your studio will be getting a copy of the issued mandate soon."
Hotwire raised an eyebrow. "Mandate, doctor?"
"Ja ja, I know there are many ponies in the city that do not listen to medical reports or even watch the news, und so I requested that the Committee take responsibility to ensure that all the ponies in the city take action to prevent this potential catastrophe."
Blutsauger turned towards the screen again and pointed at it, wagging his hoof in shame. "Immunization shots are free to all ponies with valid identifications, und all of our clinics are open twenty-four hours a day. There really is no excuse."
"I see." Hotwire lifted a small pamphlet from his jacket pocket and glanced at it briefly, then turned back to the doctor. "For those at home, what are the symptoms of hoof rot, so they may know which ponies to avoid to prevent infection?"
Blutsauger adjusted his goggles again. "Ja, of course. Hoof rot comes in stages, und luckily we are only in the first stage of the disease's run. The first symptoms of hoof rot are tiny green splotches or warts on the hooves; unicorns may also have similar blemishes on their horns."
"And what if they've progressed past that?"
"If a pony is in the secondary stage, then their hooves will be completely green. Now, hoof rot is highly contagious." The doctor turned to the camera rather dramatically. "Do not touch anypony who shows symptoms! Do not let them breathe on you! This is important! I would even recommend wearing a mask and staying at least six feet apart from others to limit transmission of the disease until you can get your shots."
Hotwire nodded. "Thank you for your time, doctor."
"Nein, keineswegs." Blutsauger smiled back and waved towards the screen. "Always a pleasure to do a service for this great city."
Hotwire turned towards the screen and stepped away from Blutsauger. "This has been Hotwire reporting for Channel One. Now back to you in the studio."
The image returned to the studio view, where Butter Pecan was shuffling a paper she had just been given.
"Thank you, Hotwire, and thank you Doctor Blutsauger. As noted in the report, we have just received the Committee's mandate." She lifted the paper she'd been given and began to read. "Issued one hour ago this morning, the Committee has issued an order that all citizens without up-to-date hoof rot immunization records in the past thirty days are to report to their nearest New Pandemonium Medical Clinic as soon as possible.
"They have also issued that anypony that does not get their immunization shots within the next twenty-four hours is subject to forced admission by order of the New Pandemonium Police Department. This mandate will be aired on all stations within the next fifteen minutes, and throughout the rest of the day in hourly intervals. It will also be broadcast every ten minutes on the public broadcast system."
She immediately brightened and turned to her right. "Now back to Daybreak for our next top story. Daybreak?"
"Thank you, Butt—"
Click.
"Awww what?" Pinkie wailed, grabbing the screen. "I thought you wanted to hear about the fire?"
"Bigger news just came up," Flathoof said. He sighed and adjusted his cap. "One thing after another. Come on then ladies, you heard the… lady."
Applejack got to her hooves and followed Flathoof towards the door. "Already? We have all day, don't we?"
"If I'd known about this report, I would've had all of you at Central General an hour ago when the Mandate was issued. I swear, I'm always the last to know these things."
"What's the big deal, though? Why the rush?"
"It's like this. The closest clinic to us is the busiest one in the entire Mid-District. I'm certain ponies are already starting to make their way there. I'd really like to get this done before too long, and the longer we wait here, the longer we'll have to wait there. So, let's get moving. Hop to it."
Twilight stood up and followed after Flathoof and Applejack. "You heard him, girls. Chop chop."
Rainbow groaned. "Awww, but they were about to get to sports. I want to see if they have a skyball league here."
Rarity rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Rainbow Dash, why do you have to be so argumentative?"
Fluttershy frowned. "Oh dear, here we go again…"
Twilight stamped a hoof. "Girls! Really, this is neither the time nor place for this sort of thing."
Both Rainbow and Rarity grunted. "But—"
Applejack stepped in and pushed Rarity and Rainbow apart. They both turned their looks of disapproval towards her instead. "Y'all heard Twilight, let's just get this over with. No more fussin' around. I reckon it won't take that long, and we can get back home and start gettin' to work on more important things. If y'all wanna argue, do it later."
Rainbow sighed. "I just wanted to see if they had a skyball league. Geez, sports was next anyway. It couldn't have taken that long."
"That can wait for later, this is more important. Do you want to get hoof rot?" Twilight asked.
"Well, no, but I mean, it's not that big of a deal. Pfft, we have that stuff back home too, they're making it sound like it's super serious and—"
"That's because maybe it is a serious illness over here?" Twilight tutted. "It might not be that big of a deal back home, but here they're making it sound like it could be deadly. Multiple stages? Warts? Hoof rot back home doesn't work like that. It just makes you smell for a bit."
Flathoof blinked and scratched his head. "You all must have it pretty lucky wherever you're from to have hoof rot be treated like a common cold."
"Even then, it's a dreadful little illness." Rarity shuddered. "Oh my, I remember having it once as a little filly. It made my hooves smell just awful for a whole week. Since then, I've taken great care to watch my health and avoid catching it again. It would drive away business!"
"Ooh, hoof rot stories!" Pinkie giggled, patting Rarity on the shoulder. "Why, I remember when me and my sisters all had it at the same time. They had to declare our rock farm a Class Five Smelly Zone! I didn't like being in quarantine all that much."
Rainbow held her hooves up in defeat. "Fine, geez, I didn't mean to sound like I didn't want to get this done. I was just wondering what the dang rush was for. No need to bite my head off."
Twilight stamped a hoof again. "Girls, please, can we just get going? I'd like to get this done as soon as possible. Right, Captain Flathoof?"
"Right." Flathoof sighed and nodded. He looked at the clock face on the nearby wall. "We're probably already running a little late. Come along, everypony."
*****
The Central General Clinic was shorter than the nearby buildings by a fair margin, nowhere near as tall as Southeast Point. It wasn't particularly wide either, not like Central Database Holdings from what Twilight could see. It was still big, to be sure. Flathoof explained that it had a larger underground portion where they performed the more serious treatments in order to avoid contamination from any smog residue.
The building was a dirty white with large red crosses adorning many of its features. A particularly large one was plastered just above the doors at the front. The doors were large enough to let a few dozen ponies in and out of the entrance at once, likely to accommodate room for stretchers, beds, or other equipment.
"See? I told you it'd be crowded," Flathoof said as they entered the sliding quad doors to the building.
Twilight and her friends' jaws collectively dropped at the sight of so many ponies in a tightly-packed space. A line of ponies stretched down the long hallway ahead of them and all the way around the corner in the distance. A little signpost at the end of the line by the door read:
Hoof Rot Immunizations
Approximate Wait Time:
15:00
"Fifteen minutes doesn’t sound too bad," Rainbow said, giving a hard look to the others. "See? No biggie."
"Those are hours, Miss Dash," Flathoof clarified.
"Fifteen hours?!" Twilight exclaimed.
"Whoa nelly…" Applejack removed her hat and fanned herself with it. "Golly, we're gonna be here all ding dong day."
The ticker clicked, and the numbers on the bottom changed: 15:15.
"Fifteen hours and fifteen minutes?!" Rarity began breathing heavily and fanning herself with a hoof. "Oh my, we have to stand in line with all these ponies for that long? Heavens, this is simply unacceptable!"
The ponies at the end of the line just ahead had apparently anticipated the wait time, and like many others ahead of them had brought cushions to sit on, and little bags of snacks and drinks. Twilight wished she had brought a book, but that just reminded her that they didn't have books here.
"Geez, you weren't kidding," Rainbow said. She scuffed her hoof on the floor and gave everypony an apologetic look. "Sorry I held us up. If I'd known—"
"It wouldn't have made much difference," Flathoof said. "Maybe saved fifteen or twenty minutes, I don't know."
He adjusted his cap and straightened his uniform. "Listen, you six go ahead and get in line. I'll see if I can find something out from the nurse station. I might not be Lockwood, but maybe I can try and work out some sort of a favor."
Flathoof trotted away from the six mares as they took up positions in line. He rang a bell at the nurse station when he got there; it was near enough that Twilight could see and hear him clearly.
A white pegasus mare came out of the nearby room, clad in a white nurse uniform and a little cap with a red cross. "Can I help you, officer?" she asked.
Flathoof gave a bright smile and removed his cap. "Yes. Well, maybe. I'm the parole officer for those six mares over there." He turned and pointed at his parolees. "I was wondering if there was anything you could do to maybe help me get their shots a little sooner?"
The nurse narrowed her eyes and frowned. "You're kidding, right? You want me to try and skip six mares ahead of a fifteen hour line? You must be out of your mind."
Flathoof continued to smile as he tugged his collar. "Eh heh. I know it sounds a little selfish, but they're new in the city and don't even have last year's shots. I'm worried something—"
The nurse sighed and calmly placed both hooves on the counter. "Look, as much as I'm sure that's the case, I simply can't just break protocol and skip them all ahead. This place is a zoo already. Can you imagine the kind of chaos that skipping a few mares ahead of the line would cause? If you think you can hold off a riot all by yourself, then feel free to convince me otherwise."
Flathoof sighed. "Well, it was worth a try. Thanks for your time."
He dejectedly walked away and returned to the other mares. "Sorry ladies, no luck. I'm sure Lockwood might've been able to do something. Knowing him he probably knows half the staff here. We'll just have to tough it out."
"Dang." Rainbow crossed her hooves in front of her chest and slumped against the wall. "This is gonna be so boring. I knew I should've brought a book. I could probably finish the newest Daring Do adventure before we're even done."
"Aw, take it easy, sugarcube." Applejack chuckled, patting Rainbow on the shoulder. "At least we got each other for company, yeah?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Um, maybe we should think of something to talk about? To pass the time?" Fluttershy said from her hiding place behind Rarity. "I mean, if… if you want to…"
Pinkie started bouncing. "Ooh! Ooh! We should play a game!" She then stopped, and glanced around the room. "Okay, I spy, with my little eye, something white!"
"Is it me?" Rarity asked, her mouth curled in a confident smirk.
Pinkie shook her head rapidly. "Nope!"
Rarity frowned. "Hmph. She usually picks me with that color."
"Is it… the nurse's gown?" Fluttershy asked, peeking out from behind Rarity.
"Nope!"
Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Is it the floor?"
"Pfft, what? The floor is clearly beige, Dashie," Pinkie said. She then put on her best Rarity impression, which was shockingly spot-on. "I mean, really, Rainbow Dash, I know you're not a fashion expert, but you can't tell the difference between beige and white?"
"Well, it used to be white." Rainbow scuffed at a tile, revealing how much dirt was caked on it. "If they ever cleaned it, it might be."
Rarity laughed and nudged Rainbow. "Careful, darling, you're starting to sound a bit like me."
"C'mon you guys, you gotta keep tryin'!" Pinkie shouted. "Something white!"
Twilight hummed and tapped her chin. "The lights, maybe?"
"Nope!"
"The ceilin'?" Applejack asked.
Pinkie put her hooves on her hips and gave the others an impatient glare. "You guys are terrible! Come on! Something white!"
"We give up!" Rainbow exclaimed, waving her hooves around in the air. "Come on, Pinkie, everything here is nearly white! It's a hospital! What did you pick?!"
Pinkie sharply pointed at Flathoof.
"Uh…" He shied away from her accusing hoof.
Her hoof scrolled down his face, to his chest, to his badge, then to tiny, white writing upon it. The NPPD motto: It's a Living.
"Oh for the love of—" Twilight groaned, throwing her hooves into the air. "We can't even read that from here, Pinkie!"
Rarity fumed. "I thought it was a reflection of the light! Really, Pinkie Pie? Really?"
"Hey, come on, I'm just trying to pass the time," Pinkie said. She pointed at the signpost, which they still hadn't even passed yet. "See?"
15:25
"Huh. Did we go backwards?"
"Ugh. Moving on." Rainbow turned to Twilight. "Hey, I know what we can talk about! Twilight, how did last night go? Find out anything about getting—" She then seemed to realize that Flathoof was just half a yard away. "A job? Yeah. Getting a job."
"Well, the Chief Librarian said I was more than qualified for the position and wants me to go in for a follow-up interview… today. Oh." Twilight put a hoof to her mouth. "Oh no. How am I going to go in for an interview if I'm standing in line waiting for a shot? Do you think he'd understand?"
Flathoof nodded. "For a Committee Mandate, I'm sure he'd make an exception. Heck, he might even be in this same line, assuming he lives in Central Plaza and isn't up-to-date on his shots. I guarantee there are probably a lot of businesses closed for the day to compensate."
Rainbow nudged Twilight softly. "Did you find anything else out, Twilight?" In a hushed whisper, she added, "Y'know, anything important?"
Twilight blinked for a moment, then her face lit up as she caught on. "Right. Well no, I couldn't find out anything I was hoping to. I didn't have much time to do my research, sadly. I'd planned on spending all of today there and trying to find out some more but—"
"Excuse me, sir?" The nurse had come over specifically to speak to them.
Flathoof hadn't noticed her walking over and was clearly as surprised as the rest of them. "Yes?"
"It would seem there was a misunderstanding," she said, her smile small and apologetic. "You said your parolees were new citizens, right? Well, maybe there is something I can do for you."
"Oh?" Flathoof asked. He hopped to attention. "Oh! That's good news. Great news!"
"Now, since they're new citizens and all that, they're going to have to go through a routine physical and get some bloodwork done," she explained. "Nothing special. We only have one doctor on staff that can do this right now, which is why I didn't think of it before."
"Well, that's lucky."
"Indeed it is! Our Chief of Medicine had to be here early today for the interview. I've already spoken with his secretary and she says he's agreeing to do it. Though, not without resistance."
"Doctor Blutsauger?" Flathoof blinked and scratched his head. "The Chief of Medicine is going to give my parolees a standard medical exam? Isn't that a bit beneath his station?"
"Yes, typically. But the Board would want him to do it anyway, since…" She leaned in a little and hushed her voice. "You know, we get tax breaks whenever new citizens get fresh medical records, kinda like the NPPD does, yeah? Every little bit helps, if you catch my drift?"
He just nodded and smiled. "Thank you. I appreciate this, Nurse…?"
"Tenderheart," she said. "And don't thank me, I'm just doing my job. To tell the truth, this might put me in good graces with the Hospital Board. All these free immunizations are expensive, and we had to call in extra staff members to see that the line moved as quickly as possible."
"Right…"
Tenderheart handed Flathoof a card. "Here, give this to his secretary and tell her I sent you. She'll admit your parolees no problem. She's expecting you. Take the elevator—" She pointed down another hallway perpendicular to the one they were already standing in. "Up to the eighth floor."
Flathoof nodded and took the card. "Thank you again, Nurse Tenderheart. Come on, ladies. We're in luck."
"Thank goodness," Twilight said. "Hopefully this'll be quicker, right?"
"It should be." Flathoof shook his head as he led them towards the elevators, "It's not going to take fifteen hours, I'll say that much. I dunno, it might take about thirty minutes for each of you, an hour at worst? Longer than just getting a shot, but hey, we don't have to wait in line, right?"
"Well that's a relief," Rainbow said.
The elevators at Central General were much larger than those at NPPD Central Station, so nopony had to be squished next to anypony else. This elevator even played music as they waited, a cheery tune that was easy to hum along to, or in Pinkie's case, bounce along to. The elevator dinged as it reached each new floor.
The eighth floor was nice. The lobby had been a filthy white, clean enough to be passable but not really sterile or hygienic. This felt more like a high-rise office building, not a hospital. The floor was carpeted, and the walls and ceiling were a pristine white. They traveled down the hall to the right-hand side, just before the corner, to a big door made of a blackened wood. It was marked with a gold placard that read Dr. Blutsauger, MD — Chief of Medicine.
Upon entering, they saw the secretary they were to contact, a unicorn mare with a dull blue coat and curly white hair. She was busy filling out some paperwork when they walked in, and hardly noticed them until Flathoof stepped up to her and coughed.
"Can I help you?" she asked without looking up from her work.
Flathoof set the business card he'd been given onto her desk. "We were sent up here from Nurse Tenderheart to see Doctor Blutsauger. Something about getting—"
The secretary lifted the card with her magic and brought it in front of her. "Ah, right, I got her message a few minutes ago. You should count yourselves lucky that Doctor Blutsauger is even here this early, but what can you do when we have a possible epidemic on our hooves, hmm?"
"And we appreciate him seeing us," Flathoof said.
"These six mares are the patients then? May I see their identifications?"
Twilight and her friends all hastily fumbled through their outfits to find where they'd stored their ID cards, then presented them.
The secretary looked over each carefully and entered their information into her computer station. "Hmm, they don't have any medical records on file, like you said. They just got into the city yesterday afternoon, right?"
"That's right."
"And they're already getting medical records taken care of and everything?" She beamed at the mares. "Good for you! It's not often we see new ponies take such quick action. Wait here, I'll inform the doctor you've arrived."
Flathoof nodded. "Thank you."
She left the room, exiting through the large door behind her. Flathoof breathed a sigh of relief, as did everypony else.
"This is going pretty smoothly," Twilight said, taking a seat in one of the office's comfy-looking chairs. "I was worried when we first got here that everypony was going to be unhelpful and rude, like those first few we met. It's nice to see there are other ponies around here that are like you and Mister Lockwood."
Rainbow grunted and took a seat next to Pinkie. "This all seems a little fishy, if you ask me."
"Aw, c'mon Dashie, everypony's gotta get lucky sometimes, right?" She threw her foreleg around Rainbow's shoulder, and got a faraway look in her eyes. "Why, I remember when I was just a little twinkie Pinkie, growing up on my family's rock farm—"
"Here we go…"
"One day, I saw a moving rock and got really scared because, hey, rocks don't move on their own! But it turned out it wasn't a rock, it was a rock lobster! Mom and Pop were super excited, because those are worth so much money to rich ponies as pets! So we sold it, and then we decided to take a vacation at the beach with the bits we made, and everypony got matching towels, and—"
Rainbow leaned over to Rarity. "What in the hay is a rock lobster?"
"—so we were headed there, and we saw a sign on the road that said fifteen miles to the—"
Rarity shook her head and shrugged. "Never heard of one. Fluttershy? Do you know, dear?"
"—and it was set way back in the middle of a field, which seems like a really weird place to put a place called the Love Shack, but I dunno, I guess everypony likes their privacy every now and then, right? So yeah, it was just a funky old shack, and—"
Fluttershy tapped her hooves together. "Um, well, they're little crab-like critters that use rocks for their homes, kind of like a shell. But they typically don't live where Pinkie used to live. They live by the ocean, usually under docks. And they're… not exactly good as pets."
"—so we took it hip-to-hip, rocking through the wilderness, which was really fun! Mom and Pop never liked to dance much except at my parties, so it was really neat to see them having such a good time. I told 'em, 'Mom, Pop, you gotta roam if you want to, even without wings or wheels or'—"
"So what the hay was one doing on her farm?" Rainbow turned to Pinkie. "Pinks! Your story doesn't make any sense!"
"—and it had pink air, which I thought was super cool 'cause I'm pink and stuff, and I thought maybe the air would taste different, but it didn't really, so I was kinda disappointed. All the trees were red though, which was weird. I thought maybe they were like, licorice or something, but nope! So then—"
Flathoof put a hoof to his face and groaned. "I swear, if I have to hear one more of these crazy stories—"
Their attentions were diverted away from Pinkie's bizarre tale when the large double doors opened and the secretary reappeared.
"Doctor Blutsauger will see you now," the secretary said. "One at a time," she quickly added when all six mares took a step forward, "and he insists on doing it alphabetically. That means you're first, Miss…" She glanced at her computer screen again. "Applejack?"
"Oh, well, okay I guess," Applejack said as she trotted forward and past the secretary. "Wish me luck, girls."
*****
Applejack jumped at the sound of the big doors snapping closed behind her. With a gulp, she looked around the new room she found herself in. Doctor Blutsauger's office was, to put it lightly, fancy.
The walls were richly decorated with all sorts of unique, exotic décor, all of it with an eerie medical feel. The lavish carpet felt oddly comfortable under her hooves, like walking on crisp, freshly-cut grass. There were no windows, but she actually preferred it that way since the big city was still unsettling to her.
The massive wall of degrees and qualifications eased Applejack's trepidation. Doctor Blutsauger was clearly a highly-decorated expert in his field. Rather, fields, given the amount of degrees on the wall. She didn't know any of the many different specializations that were listed, though. There were degrees for Cardiology, Hematology, and a few others, none of which she knew the nature of nor really cared to know, truth be told.
Along one of the walls was a display of jars filled with a transparent, greenish liquid and various other… things. Applejack had never paid much attention in school during biology lessons, but she figured the objects in those jars were organs. Certainly now Applejack was less at ease, and wondered how Doctor Blutsauger expected a wall full of pony organs to really soothe anypony that came in here.
The doctor himself soon exited from the side room.
He smiled broadly when the mare caught his eye. "Ah, Miss Applejack, ja? Wunderbar! Let's get this ordeal over with. I did not expect to be coming in today to give physicals und perform any hoof rot shots personally, but business is business, or so they say. Follow me, bitte."
He gestured behind him towards the room he'd just left. Applejack followed, and came into a sterile white room with a large table in the center. The walls were lined with various medical implements.
"Let's take care of a few measurements first. Step over to the device here." He gestured to a machine that Applejack thought looked similar to a scale. She stepped on it, and he came over and began adjusting knobs and levers on the panel. "Now then, I understand you are from the south, ja? Did you take a physical over there any time recently?"
Applejack thought for a moment, and remembered a doctor's visit she'd taken a little while before all of this. "Yeah, some few months ago, I think, to get a cramp in one of my legs looked at. I don't rightly remember exactly when it was."
Blutsauger continued to adjust the scale as he talked. "Do you remember any of the measurements you were given?"
Applejack raised an eyebrow. "Measurements?"
He waved a hoof in a gesture for her to continue. "Ja, your height, weight, things like that? I'd like to have them for comparison, in case there is a large difference in the numbers. It helps to see if you've grown or shrunk in figure, ja? To learn if perhaps there is something in your daily routine or diet that may be affecting you."
"Ah, okay." Applejack nodded, and tapped a hoof to her temple in thought. She came up blank. "Uh, I don't rightly remember if they even took any. I ain't that good with numbers, see, and—"
"Fine fine, it's no big issue," he dismissed. "We can worry about that the next time you have a physical, to see how well you adjust to changing living conditions. Let's see. Ah, height is one hundred forty-one, slightly above-average, very good. You are a tall one, ja! Veight is four hundred twenty-seven, also above-average—"
Applejack turned her head and glared at him. "Well that's a bit rude, doc. Ya sayin' I'm fat?"
Blutsauger blinked. A second later, he laughed. Loudly. "Ach, goodness no. Ha! Ha ha!" He took a kerchief from his coat pocket and wiped it under one of his goggles. "Fat! That is a new one. I will have to remember it for the next Doctors' Ball."
She wasn't sure if she should laugh along with him or not, to be honest.
"Nein, meine liebste, you have some exquisite muscular tone, so the extra weight is all from that." He punctuated this by poking her well-muscled midsection. "You are a work pony, ja? The weight is understandable, given your height. You must do a lot of physical labor, und quite often? From the south, hmm. Construction maybe, or a farm pony, perhaps?"
Applejack blinked and nodded. "Yeah, that's right, I work on a farm. Good guess, doc."
"Ach, I make it mein business to know mein patients on a personal level, ja? It helps make them feel at ease, since many patients feel uncomfortable with a few of the procedures." He tugged the collar of his lab coat and bit his lip. "Speaking of which, for the next procedure, I am going to need you to strip."
*****
"Bonjour. Est-ce que votre réfrigérateur marche? Alors, vous feriez mieux d'aller l'attraper!"
Blutsauger pulled back several inches and looked at his stethoscope carefully.
No, there wasn't any dirt or dust on it. He leaned in again.
"おはようございます! クレージーホースインザモーニングへ ようこそ! 僕は アンカーマン クレージーホースです!"
His stethoscope shifted.
"This is your captain speaking, we are currently on our final approach to—"
He kept himself calm; Pinkie only smiled. He coughed, and gave her a relaxed, though quizzical, look of concern.
Pinkie's grin got wider. "What's up, doc?"
Where did she get the carrot from?
*****
"Will. You. Stop. Moving. Please?" Blutsauger gasped. "You are. Making. This. So much. Harder. Than. It. Needs. To be!"
"C'mon doc, you gotta try harder than that," Rainbow said. "Or am I too fast for you? I'm not just a fast flier, y'know. I gotta be fast all over."
"You are not supposed to dodge the hammer," he panted as he lifted the rubber implement once more. Again he swung it down and again he missed as she moved her leg out of the way.
Rainbow crossed her hooves over her chest. "Well that's dumb, how is it supposed to test my reflexes if I just let you hit me?"
Blutsauger sighed and wiped his brow with his kerchief. "I thought I was done with dealing with things like this."
*****
"There we go, all done." Blutsauger nodded as he used his magic to toss a needle into a hazardous waste disposal bin. "That was not so bad, ja?"
Twilight opened her eyes and shook her head, though the spot was still just a little sore. "No, I suppose not."
She'd had to focus her attention intently on a clock on the far end of the room when he'd given her the shot, clenching her eyes shut when she felt the needle just prock her skin. She'd never mentioned it to any of her friends and probably never would unless it came up, but she wasn't exactly a big fan of needles.
"Mmm, this is something that I have not done in a long time," he chuckled. "Bloodwork is such a pleasure. Ah, sometimes I wish I had not gotten this promotion, ja? It is always the little things you miss the most."
"Right." Twilight grimaced as she felt him apply the tiny bandage to the injection area. "So, are we all done here for today? With everything? Please tell me that's the last of it."
"Hmm? Oh, ja, that will be all," Blutsauger said, waving a hoof dismissively. "Tell mein secretary that you are all done, und she will send the tax paperwork to your place of residence. Und she will give you a lollipop too, I think, for being such a trooper," he added with a wide smile, giving her cheek a little pinch with his hoof.
"Oh. Right." Twilight gulped, face turning red. "Um, thank you, Doctor."
Twilight sighed in discontent and left the office. Her friends were all in the entryway waiting for her, wearing varied looks of displeasure or bewilderment at the experiences they'd just gone through. Well, doctor's visits were certainly different here in this new world, that much Twilight knew was for certain.
But hey, the lollipop was blackberry-flavored.
*****
It was good to be back at Southeast Point. Not too many hours had passed, but it was still close to mid-afternoon as Twilight, her friends, and Flathoof ascended the stairs to their apartment. Every time she traversed these stairs, Twilight felt she was becoming more and more accustomed to the climb, and she hoped the others felt as she did. Having a good night's rest, stopping for a little lunch on the way home, and not having to deal with a lot of stress thanks to getting sucked into another world, allowed them a lot more energy for it. Even Rarity barely complained as they made the climb.
It came as a surprise to find Lockwood waiting at the top of the stairs for them, pacing back and forth outside their open door. He looked calm, but impatient.
"Lockwood?" Flathoof pushed ahead of the girls and approached his friend. "I didn't expect you until later tonight for dinner arrangements."
Lockwood greeted them with his bright smile. "Oh, there you all are. Must've been going in for those immunization shots, hmm? Right right, of course you were, silly of me to even ask. How was it? The line wasn't too long, I hope?"
"Fifteen hours and thirty minutes," Twilight said, sighing heavily. "When we got there, it was packed. I've never seen such a crowd in one place before, and I've seen an awful lot of crowds."
Lockwood raised an eyebrow. "Fifteen hours? Really? You're all back awfully early, then."
"Yeah, we got some help from a nurse there," Flathoof said. "A Nurse Tenderheart, to be precise. Friend of yours? Maybe she recognized me or something. I figured you might have had something to do with it, maybe called in a favor knowing we'd be there?"
"Tenderheart? No, the name doesn't sound familiar. I do know one doctor there, though."
Flathoof smiled and nodded. "See, I knew it. It wouldn't be Doctor Blutsauger, would it?"
Lockwood chuckled. "The city's Chief of Medicine? Oh, Flathoof, I think you overestimate me. I know a lot of ponies, but that's a little beyond my reach when social circles are concerned. I had nothing to do with this at all."
Flathoof hummed and scratched his head. "Well that's odd. I guess that nurse or secretary was just really nice then. Shame. I could've gotten some information for you. You'd probably like to meet somepony like that."
He shook his head, then pointed at Lockwood. "Anyway, I know you didn't come up here just to make conversation. Well, maybe you would, but that doesn't look like why you're here. What's going on?"
"Ah, yes, right. Well, I was doing some rounds after a city technician came by to service the phone lines, and when I returned to the lobby, a visitor was waiting to meet our new friends here."
"A visitor? Who?"
"You'll have to ask her. She's just inside."
"Why'd you let her into the apartment?" Flathoof asked with narrowed eyes.
"So that I could keep her within hooves reach, of course. Relax, she seems very nice and has been more than cooperative so far. I'm a good judge of character, you know that." Lockwood gestured for the door. "C'mon, she's been waiting for you. It's good you got here early, eh?"
Twilight, her friends, Lockwood, and Flathoof entered the apartment.
A short icy blue unicorn mare with a snow white mane rested on their couch. She was covered in small, somewhat fresh cuts and bruises, though they were minor enough that they didn't need treatment. The only really bad one was a gash along her ear, which was already bandaged. She wore a magenta turtleneck sweater and matching scarf and beret, the former of which had a few tears in it as if she'd been in a scuffle. Her cutie mark was a crystal made of ice.
She'd clearly been through a lot, but was otherwise awake, alert, and actually enjoying what appeared to be a cup of coffee.
"Oh good, you're here," the mare said after she swallowed a mouthful. She smacked her lips and gave Lockwood a small grin, lifting the cup slightly. "Good stuff, by the way. Ya don't skimp on your coffee, do ya? This is some serious gourmet shit."
Lockwood returned the grin. "I tend to wake up early, and I find that a good cup of coffee gets the day started right. It's a little late in the day for my tastes, though."
"Yeah sure, but I pulled an all-nighter so I needed a little of the ol' pick-me-up. I tell ya, I could go for a real coldie after all this, though." The mare then turned to Twilight and the others as she hopped off the couch. "Well then, let's keep this simple, eh? Cuttin' right to the point, my name is Winter Glow, Chronomancer of Equestria-V, and I'm here to send you home."
Twilight and her friends were, quite frankly, stunned.
Flathoof grunted rather loudly. "Lockwood, mind telling me what you're doing letting crazy mares in here? Bad enough you let a stranger in here in the first place—made her a damn cup of coffee, even—but I figured she was at least sane."
Lockwood huffed and put his hoof over his heart. "Flathoof, I'm hurt. You know me better than that. She told me she was acquainted with Miss Sparkle and the others and seemed to know a great deal about them, so I figured she was a friend of theirs that heard they were in the neighborhood. But just in case, sure, it's not like I haven't been keeping an eye on her until you all showed up."
"She knows our names?" Twilight asked, giving Winter a look.
"Indeed I do, Twilight Sparkle." She turned to the others in the group. "And Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie. I know more than just your names, actually. You lot are a long way from home, and it's my job to get ya back where ya belong. Back to, uh… Ponyville, yeah?"
Twilight's eyes widened. "You even know where we're from?"
Flathoof put a hoof out to stop Twilight when she took a step forward. "She can get that from public records if she knows what she's doing. Probably how she got your address, too." He leveled a glare at the mare. "You're gonna give me a good reason, right now, why anypony here should trust you."
Winter nodded in complete understanding. "Right, yeah, figured ya might get a bit defensive. How about somethin' I know about them that ain't on record, eh?" She glanced at Twilight and nodded. "Like how Miss Sparkle is the prized student of Princess Celestia? Or how the lot of ya are connected to the Elements of Harmony?"
Flathoof shook his head and turned to Lockwood again. "Seriously? You think this mare's on the level after all that gibberish?"
Twilight swiftly pressed forward past Flathoof.
"Whoa, hey! Miss Sparkle—"
"It's okay, Captain Flathoof." Twilight looked at him and gave him a kind smile. "She's telling the truth. I think we can trust her."
"Huh?"
Twilight turned back to Winter. "You say you're here to help us get home, right? How?"
Lockwood scratched his head. "Wait a sec, I'm actually starting to think Flathoof was right on this, because now you're all talking crazy. What does that mean, exactly? 'Get home'? You mean like, back into the Wastelands? No no, wait, she said Ponyville, so… back to the southern continent? To Utopia?"
"We're… not actually from Utopia. At all," Twilight said, shaking her head. "We're from a place called Ponyville, yes, in a country called Equestria, but… it's all in another world entirely. We're not from this world."
"Oh my goodness! I just realized, that means we're aliens!" Pinkie blurted, She wiggled her hooves in the air at Flathoof and Lockwood with a wide smile on her face. "Fear not, ponylings, for we are not the probing kind. Unless you're into that sort of thing, I guess? Wait. No, still not probing you, but you wouldn't be afraid if we did."
Winter cleared her throat. "Strictly speakin', they're from an alternate world to this one designated as Equestria-IV. They were accidentally displaced here and it's my job as this world's Chronomancer to get them back to where they belong. Though I guess 'aliens' is sort of fittin'?"
Flathoof and Lockwood just stared at her and the others for a good, long moment in total silence.
The former stepped past the others and further into the room, moving towards the couch. "I think I need to sit down."
The latter removed his hat and scratched his head as he leaned himself against the wall. "This was definitely not the conversation I was expecting to be having today. Or ever."
Winter just chuckled and shook her head. "Yeah, I realize it's a bit hard to take in. Normally I wouldn't have even let either of ya know about it, but circumstances dictate I've gotta bend a few rules anyway. The both of ya already got yourselves knee-deep in this shit, though, so you're as much a part of it as they are."
She then turned to Twilight and the others, all of whom were much brighter with the information they'd been given; Twilight especially was eager to get to the plan for getting them home already.
"Alright, ladies," Winter continued, "let me give ya the rundown of what the situation is. You six got yourselves sucked in through a portal made of what's called 'Void' energy. Nasty stuff, capable of tearin' whole worlds apart, and it's somethin' us Chronomancers try to put a stop to.
"Now, since you lot aren't in your world right now, I've been led to understand that the seal ya placed on someone called 'Discord' is weakenin', what with ya not bein' there to connect with the Elements of Harmony. Makes 'em not work right, I guess."
"Wait, Discord's loose?!" Twilight exclaimed in a panic. "We need to get back home, now!"
"Yeah, what're we wasting time gabbing for?!" Rainbow blurted.
"We're gonna miss the chocolate milk rain!" Pinkie added, earning disapproving looks from Twilight and Rainbow.
Winter raised a hoof. "Hold on, hold on, don't get your knickers in a twist, ladies. I have it in good authority that the seal isn't breakin' all at once, but that it's a gradual process. I've been given a timeframe of three-to-four weeks before the seal goes kaput and things really go to shit, eh?"
"Oh. Phew, that's relatively good news, at least," Twilight said, letting out a breath of relief. Being taken by surprise by Discord was one thing; giving him time to plot and scheme before getting a chance to stop him again was another. "Wait… three-to-four weeks? That's oddly specific."
"Hmm? How do ya mean?"
"I mean, why give us such a specific time frame if you're sending us home? It won't matter… to us." She paused. "Unless it does. That timeframe is important, isn't it?"
"See, I figured you were smart," Winter said with a grin. "Yeah, so, the bad news is that I can't send ya home right this minute. It's complicated."
"So, wait, don't tell me we're gonna be stuck here for three more weeks?" Applejack asked, removing her hat. "Maybe longer?"
"It's a possibility, but consider it more of a deadline than a guarantee," Winter said with a nod. "If we're lucky, it won't take that long anyway; if we're not, then I'll speak with my counterpart in your world to work on a backup plan."
"Counterpart?" Twilight asked.
"Yup, every world's got a Chronomancer of its own. The one in your world is named Summer Rains. Maybe ya heard of her?"
"That layabout?" Rainbow scoffed. "You're pulling my leg. Summer Rains didn't even make the cut for the weather team. She just stays cooped up in her house all day or takes picnics out in the middle of nowhere. Sometimes in the middle of the night!" She paused. "N-not that I'm spying on her, I just notice things."
Winter shrugged. "That's just what she wants ya to think, then. Trust me, she's a Chronomancer just like I am. It's thanks to her that I found out what's wrong in your world, and she and I put this plan together. She'll be tryin' to make sure that Discord's seal stays stable for as long as she can to make this timeline work."
"I don't even understand how our seal on Discord is weakening so fast or so noticeably," Twilight said, trying to parse all this information out. "Celestia's seal took nearly a year to wear off after the Elements transferred over to us, and was it so subtle that she didn't even notice it."
"I suppose it should be obvious that the six of ya aren't as powerful as Celestia though, right?" Winter suggested; Twilight had to admit that was likely true, and gave a weak nod. "Well, that and your seal was still fresh, so it might've been weaker. Like a… fresh bit of glue, basically: easier to peel apart than when it's had time to dry. Best analogy I've got."
"Well that's kind of a gyp," Rainbow said, crossing her hooves over her chest. "Our seal should be just as strong as the one the Princess used. That's not fair."
"Well, that's just how magic works, eh? Celestia's control of Law magic is significantly greater than any of yours, even combined, especially since only two of ya are unicorns that can use actual magic. At any rate, the longer you're here, the faster the influx of Chaos magic will—"
Twilight waved a hoof to stop Winter from going on. "Hang on, now you're confusing me by bringing up ‘Law’ magic. Chaos and Law aren't really those kinds of—"
Winter held up a hoof of her own. "Listen, Miss Sparkle, I'd love to get into a debate with ya right here in the middle of your dingy apartment, but I'll save us both the trouble and say that every world is different in how it classifies things. It all comes down to the same concept: balance between two opposing forces, and your world's balance is off."
"Just cut to the chase already!" Rainbow shouted from the back. "We get it, we've gotta get home, and we've gotta do it quick. So, what're we gonna do about it?"
"Ah, the plan is rather simple, really." Winter glanced around the apartment. "You lot seem to have gotten yourselves situated with a place to live for now, eh? Basically, the plan is that you're all gonna just go about your days and adjust to livin' in this shithole city while I work on gettin' into contact with Nihila."
"Nihila? Who's that?" Twilight asked.
"One of this world's two alicorn goddesses, specifically that of disparity, darkness, evil, and all that hullabaloo."
Twilight balked. "Wait, what? We're asking an evil goddess for help? Isn't there, I don't know, a not-evil one we can ask?"
"Yup, sure is. Harmonia, goddess of peace, balance, and light."
"Well then let's ask her," Rainbow said.
"Thing is, to get her help we'd need to travel from here in New Pandemonium City all the way south to Utopia. To do that, we'd first have to cross the entire northern continent to Hope's Point, then get a flight to Utopia before we can even contact Harmonia. If we're lucky, the entire trip will take just shy of three weeks, assumin' no delays whatsoever.
"Now, before ya start thinkin' that doesn't sound so bad, crossin' the continent is dangerous. Hundreds of ponies attempt it every year, and statistics show that a group our size is likely to result in at least one death en route. The odds aren't great."
"No, that… that doesn't sound good at all," Twilight murmured.
"Yup, 'cause if anythin' like that were to happen to even one of ya, your world's screwed, and this world's screwed, because there'd be no way to reverse the imbalance."
"Not that it doesn't concern me, but… how come? If one of us had something… happen to us, then why would there still be an imbalance?"
"It's a bit complicated, but the short version is, your souls wouldn't go back to your world, they'd stay here. This world's balance would remain off, and your world would be out one bearer of the Elements, eh?"
Twilight gulped. "That… does sound pretty bad."
Winter shook her head. "After that, the Void would just come right in and start eating away at things in both worlds until there's nothing left. Within a few months, your world and this one would cease to exist, probably yours first. It's not worth the risk."
"So, what, we're just gonna sit here and try to make like we're movin' into this here city?" Applejack asked, scratching her head. "I'm not sure I like the sound of that much neither."
"She's making the outside of the city sound awfully dangerous," Rarity noted. "I know we're no strangers to dangerous things, girls, but perhaps it's best if we don't go running off into it?"
"And just stay stuck in this dung heap? For three weeks or whatever?" Rainbow scoffed. "I dunno, I think I'd rather take the odds. I can probably fly to this Hope's Point or whatever all by myself and get them to send help or something to get everypony else across."
Applejack rolled her eyes. "Rainbow, what makes ya think that just showin' up like that would amount to anythin'? It ain't like we can just wait for ya to make the trip 'n' all. 'Sides that, what if somethin' happens to you while you're all by yerself out there? We'd be in a right pickle and we'd never even know it."
"Aw, c'mon, AJ. I'm Rainbow Danger Dash, this'll be a cakewalk!"
"I thought your middle name was 'Professionalism'?"
"She has three or four middle names by my count, dear," Rarity said with a little grin. "Her parents must have wanted to see how much they could get away with."
"Har har," Rainbow scoffed. "I still stand by my point: I think I can handle it, if you guys are up to give it a try."
"Staying here in the city doesn't sound so bad when you compare it to potential death, Rainbow," Twilight said with a sigh. "I'm inclined to agree with Rarity: I think that staying here and trying to fit in would be the better idea. The safer idea. We don't know all of the particulars of this world's threats, and we all want to get home safe, right?"
"Right…" Fluttershy muttered.
Rainbow glanced at Fluttershy, then sighed and nodded. "No, you're right. I guess we can just stick here where it's safe, even if the city is a big ol' lame-o dungheep." She shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to keep an eye on you guys."
"So, what's the plan?" Twilight asked, turning back to Winter. "How can we help?"
"Well, the main thing is gettin' in touch with Nihila," Winter said, rubbing the back of her neck. "Problem is that there's no easy way to do that. I'm gonna be spendin' my time over these next few weeks lookin' into how to go about it. There's bound to be somethin' resemblin' instructions somewhere in the city archives."
"You mean you don't even know for sure that you can even contact this Nihila pony?" Rainbow blurted.
"I agree, that sounds like an awful oversight, dear," Rarity added.
"No, I know I can contact her, it's just a matter of how," Winter corrected. "Down south, Harmonia can be contacted via a pony known as her 'Warden'. Nihila would have a Warden too, so I need to figure out how to get in touch with them."
Twilight tapped her chin. "You said something about researching the city archives, right? Well… maybe I can help? As part of this whole, uh… lie that we've been telling, I managed to get hired at the Central Database Holdings as a librarian. I'll be around all sorts of research materials."
Winter nodded appreciatively. "Good, good, that'll work out nicely." She turned to the others. "The rest of ya just do whatever ya need to do to get comfortable and stay safe, eh? Ya might need some kind of income so ya can get better clothes, food, maybe stuff to help ya relax or whatever."
"So wait," Flathoof said. All the mares jumped, having forgotten he and Lockwood were even still in the room. "Let me get this straight: these six mares are from another world, and to send them home you need to get in touch with some evil goddess within the next three-to-four weeks. Am I understanding this right?"
Winter nodded as if it was nothing at all. "That's the gist of it, yes."
"Well if you ask me, it sounds like you need some help," Flathoof said.
"And you are? Sorry, got sort of bogged down with all the other discussion and I never properly introduced myself to ya. Right rude of me, eh? Winter Glow," she said, offering her hoof. "Nice to meet ya."
Flathoof removed his hat and shook her hoof. "Captain Flathoof, NPPD. I'm their parole officer. I'd like to think I've helped these young ladies get through their first twenty-four hours here pretty well. And if everything you're saying is true and they need to get home, I suppose I'd be willing to offer up a little more."
"You mean you're gonna help us?" Applejack asked.
Flathoof nodded.
"The better question is, you believe all this?" Rainbow asked. "I mean, I hardly believe it and I'm living it."
"To be honest, I still find it all a bit far-fetched, but there's a whole lot about your original story that didn't make much sense either. If you're really from another world, then things start making at least a little more sense, like how you got into the city without anypony noticing." Flathoof shrugged. "So, what else is there to believe?"
"Well said," Lockwood agreed, patting Flathoof on the shoulder. "If you eliminate the impossible until only the improbable is left, then the improbable must be true. I'm with Flathoof. Anything I can do to help, you just to ask."
Flathoof turned to Winter. "So, we need to keep these girls occupied, safe, and provided for for at least three weeks?"
Winter nodded. "Correct."
"I'm only your parole officer for one week, and we've got one day behind us already," Flathoof said, giving the mares a nod. "But even after that, I'll be sure to keep an eye on you girls. I might not be around as often once I get back to my normal shift, but I'll do what I can."
Lockwood looked to the mares in the line. "Well, I think I can hook a few of you up with some friends of mine if any of you are looking for things to pass the time or trying to earn some bits. I've already got your apartment settled up so that you won't have to worry about rent until after you're meant to leave, anyway."
"We appreciate the help, both of you," Twilight said, bowing her head. "We can't thank you enough for what you've already done for us, and I wasn't really ready to ask for more, but… well, thank you."
"Yeah, you guys are alright in my book!" Pinkie said with a large bounce. "You know what this means, girls? A party! To celebrate new friends and stuff!"
Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Yeah, alright. I guess things could be a lot worse than sticking around in this dump and asking for help from a couple of ponies we hardly know. If that's what we gotta do to get home, then let's do it."
Lockwood clapped his hooves together briefly. "Excellent. I'll get in touch with some friends to see if we can arrange some things. Now, I'm afraid I don't know all of you that well just yet, so if anypony can offer me a few suggestions?"
Rarity raised her hoof first, actually excited from what Twilight could tell, the first time she'd seen Rarity like this since they'd arrived. "Ooh! Back home, I'm a fashion designer, and a rather well-regarded one at that. Since everypony in this city of yours is required by law to wear clothes, I suppose there must be some sort of fashion scene here, yes?"
"Indeed there is! I know just the ponies to talk to, in fact, if you're looking to break onto the scene."
"How about the city's weather patrol?" Rainbow asked. "That was my gig back home. I was captain of the team, actually, so I know all about organizing schedules and assigning pegasi to proper positions and such."
Lockwood tilted his head. "Well, the only 'weather' we get in the city is just smog and the occasional acid rain. I mean, we do have weather teams to keep the latter contained, but they’re exclusively unicorns; pegasi can't touch acid rain clouds, obviously."
"Well… yeah, that makes sense. I don't think I'd want to get within fifty feet of something that could melt my skin off." Rainbow tapped her chin. "Well, how about skyball? The city's got a league or something, right?"
Lockwood nodded in thought. "Well, it's a bit late to join any professional teams seeing as they're midway through the season, but I do know a talent scout for a team in the semi-pro league. If he sees you play, he might recruit you."
Rainbow grinned. "Yeah, that sounds great! Even semi-pro's better than being cooped up in this apartment all day every day."
"Excellent, I'll arrange something with him so that he can give you a look. Their season starts next week so I'm sure he'd be more than happy to pick up some fresh talent."
"I don't rightly know how any of my talents really translate around here," Applejack said, fiddling with her stetson. "I was honest about bein' a farmer back home 'n' all, so unless y'all got some sort o' farm somewhere where y'all grow crops or whatnot, I don't know what to do."
"I'm afraid we don't have anything like that…" Lockwood murmured, tapping his chin.
Applejack stamped her hoof on the floor, looking quite dejected. "Shoot…"
"You mentioned that you do lots of heavy lifting and sorting as part of your farm work, right?" Flathoof asked.
"Uh, yeah, that's right."
"Tell you what, tomorrow I'll introduce you to my dad. I'm positive that there’s an opening in one of the shipping warehouses, and I'm sure he'd be happy to have somepony reliable take it. You strike me as the reliable sort."
"R-really? You'd do that for me?"
Flathoof gave her a little grin. "I don't see why not? It'll be good pay, my dad can help keep an eye on you, and it's right up your alley, too: hard, physical work. I know it's not the same as a farm, but it's something."
"Gee, uh… thanks, Flathoof." Applejack nodded, a slight smile on her face. "Yeah, that does sound mighty nice."
"Ooh ooh!" Pinkie said, bouncing in place. "If we're doing things like what we do back home, I worked at the bestest best bakery in all of Ponyville! Is there anything like that around here? I'm one mean baker, I tell ya. Well, not mean, but— you know what I mean."
Lockwood stroked his chin and nodded. "Yeah, I can work with that. There's a confection caterer that's only a few blocks from here that I've used for assorted charity work I do, so I'm sure if I drop the owner a line she'd be happy to have a new helper on staff."
Pinkie pumped a hoof in triumph. "Yes! Everything’s coming up Pinkie! Woo!"
The group then expectantly looked to Fluttershy, who hid behind her mane and scuffed her hoof on the floor. "Um… well, my talent is with animals, you know, and I, um… I haven't exactly seen any animals around to take care of. Is there something like that around here?"
Lockwood frowned and shook his head. "I'm afraid we don't have animals up here in the north, except some nasty, deadly ones out in the Wasteland that I wouldn't want you or anypony else getting anywhere near."
"Oh, w-well, that's fine," Fluttershy peeped, clearly unnerved by that. "I mean… if that doesn't work, then I was thinking… what if I just stay here at the apartment? You know, make sure the place is clean and neat for everypony when they come home from work? I think I'd like that…" She sighed. "It'd let me feel useful…"
"Oh, darling, you don't need to feel bad if you're not using your special talent here," Rarity said as she rubbed Fluttershy's back. "I'm sure we'll all appreciate your help no matter how you choose to offer it, and coming back to a comfortable home after a hard day's work sounds marvelous."
"Thanks, Rarity…"
Winter nodded. "Sounds like you lot got things figured out then, eh? Good, makes me feel better knowin' you've got somethin' ta keep yourselves busy while I get this all figured out." She let out a breath and headed for the door. "Miss Sparkle, I'll see you tomorrow at the CDH building to start doin' some research."
"Roger that," Twilight said with a smile. "Looking forward to it. Where are you off to now?"
"I've gotta get myself a place to live for the time bein'," Winter said with a shrug. "My last apartment got condemned, let's just say, and it won't do me good sleepin' out on the streets, eh?"
"Finding a place to live on such short notice isn't going to be easy," Flathoof said, eyebrow quirked.
"You could always stay with us?" Twilight suggested.
Winter glanced around the room, then shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks. This apartment's small enough as it is with six of ya, and I wouldn't want to impose. You're goin' through enough trouble already, eh? No need to add more to the pile."
"We can't just let you go out there without a place to sleep, Miss Glow," Rarity said. "That would simply be unacceptable, especially given how much you're willing to do for us. I know it's your job, as you say, but surely there's something we can do to help you?"
"Unless ya know how to make an apartment available at the drop of a hat, I doubt it."
Flathoof nudged Lockwood. "Hey, landlord, you got any openings?"
Lockwood shook his head. "Afraid not, not one that I'd be able to swing for a single tenant anyway. The owner is a stickler for ensuring that rooms are given to appropriately-sized groups so we don't have to worry so much about missed payments, and I don't think Miss Glow here can afford the larger apartments I do have open no matter how much I manage to finagle.
"However… I think I might have an idea." Lockwood coughed into his hoof. "I hope this doesn't sound untoward, Miss Glow, but you could stay with me. I hardly use all of my space as-is, and you'd be close to Miss Sparkle and the others."
Winter tilted her head and gave Lockwood a quizzical look. "You're serious? Ya don't even know me and you're offerin' to let me into your home to live with ya? Just like that?"
"It's how he does things," Flathoof said, patting Lockwood on the shoulder.
Lockwood shrugged. "Look, Miss Glow, I'd be lying if I didn't say I feel awkward about the offer myself, but I did say I'd help these ladies however I could. That includes making sure you're taken care of as well, seeing as they need you to send them home, right? It's only logical, and it's only right. I'd feel like an ass if I didn't at least offer."
"Huh. I suppose you've got a point." Winter nodded. "Very well. It does make things simple for me, and if you don't have a problem with it then I don't have a problem with it. Just know that I've never had a roommate before, so I have no idea how this works."
"Excellent. Come along then, I'll show you where you'll be staying," he said as he walked past her and headed towards the door. He turned back to Twilight and the others before he left. "I'll be up here first thing in the morning with some answers for all of you regarding my contacts, alright? Hooves crossed."
"Thanks again, Lockwood," Twilight said with a nod. "Again, we appreciate all of this. You're too kind."
As Lockwood and Winter left, Flathoof let out a breath and turned to the group. "Alright, so, since it looks like we're all gonna be getting to know each other over the next few weeks, what say we get started on that? How about dinner?"
"Sounds good to me!" Pinkie said, rubbing her stomach. "I'm as hungry as a hungry hippo!"
"Dinner sounds wonderful, Captain," said Rarity with a smile. "I have the feeling this whole situation is just the start to some beautiful new friendships."
Chapter Six: Creation
The elevator hummed quietly as it slowly made its way down the side of Pandora Tower. The only passenger gazed out of the glass exterior and out upon the city's skyline. No smog congregated around the tower itself, giving Silvertongue a clear view of the parts of the city not plagued with the stuff, such as the lovely Inner Districts. Eventually, as the Inner Districts' gleaming skyscrapers and office complexes rose up into view, his view became obscured.
The elevator played soothing ambient music throughout its descent. The slow, delicate melody came from another of Silvertongue's favorite operas, much like all the pieces of music he regularly listened to. He bobbed his head slightly in tune with the music, waving one hoof around as if conducting his own invisible orchestra.
The singer, who played the villain of the piece, sang in his deep baritone as he set about his final scheme to vanquish his heroic foe towards the end of the second act. Silvertongue still recalled the opera clearly from the last time he'd seen it, despite how very, very long ago that was. It had been an extraordinary evening. He missed those days, though he never dwelled on them for long.
The elevator dinged when it reached the underground level. The doors opened, leading out into a long, dim, beckoning hallway, its black metal walls decorated with banners bearing the red and gold emblem of New Pandemonium. A large metal door, bordered with a gold and black outline, stood at the end of the hall. As Silvertongue approached it, he lit up his horn and turned the great circular handle in its center, then pushed it open, striding through the doorway with confidence, eager with anticipation.
Every step further in was a step further towards completing the monumental undertaking set before him.
The contents of the room beyond were easy enough to see in the dim light. An abundance of technomagic machinery filled just about every space in the room; monitors displayed mathematical calculations and abundances of text; several machines bore multitudes of buttons, levers, knobs, switches, and dials; a small power generator stood on the far side of the room, its unseemly orange glow bright enough to illuminate the room by itself; cables of all shapes, sizes, and lengths connected them all together.
Putting this all together in the span of an afternoon hadn't been easy. But time was of the essence; delays were unacceptable.
Silvertongue's eyes focused towards the center of the room, where a large platform had been raised. He approached it with what was almost a spring in his step, ecstatic to see the fruit of his labors firsthand, to see what his mad science and forbidden magics had wrought.
The large machine on the platform held six large, egg-shaped containers made of blue-tinted glass. Each container connected to a plethora of cables which in turn connected to the series of machines and monitors just to the side. A quick glance at the monitors told him that the contents of the containers were stable.
Silvertongue's mouth curled in a tiny grin.
He turned and called out into the room. "Doctor! Is everything prepared?"
A crash from the side of the room drew Silvertongue's attention. Somepony had tripped over one of the cables and was now swearing loudly as he tried to untangle himself. The pony, an off-white unicorn stallion wearing a dull beige lab coat and an overly-large pair of goggles, rounded the nearby machinery and greeted Silvertongue with a brisk salute and a smile.
"Herr Silvertongue! I apologize, I did not hear you come in. I was occupied with monitoring the subjects." Blutsauger ran a hoof through his slick mane to straighten it, giving a nervous chuckle. "But ja, everything is prepared. I only need to make a few final adjustments, and then we may begin."
Silvertongue laughed and patted the other unicorn on the shoulder. "You have outdone yourself, Doctor, and in such a short time as well. I am glad to see I will not be experiencing any delays. This shall be your greatest work, I assure you of that. History in the making."
Blutsauger smiled and nodded. "Danke, Herr Silvertongue. Though, I really must thank you for making it so easy to get the genetic material. I do not know if I would have been able to do this without such pure samples. These specimens are fantastic!"
Silvertongue turned his attention back to the containment pods. A mare rested in each. Here, in the one closest to him, lay a lavender mare, a unicorn with a deep purple mane and tail with a bright pink streak shooting along the middle. Her eyes were closed and from here he could not see her breathing, but all of the instruments told him that she was very much alive.
Twilight Sparkle, representative of this "Element of Magic". The only difference between the one here and the one somewhere out there in New Pandemonium City was that the latter had a soul, the former did not. Not yet. The lack of a cutie mark upon the flank of the one in the pod proved that.
Silvertongue knew that soon that would no longer be the case, that the little mare in this containment pod would no longer be Twilight Sparkle and yet would be all the same. All of the original's thoughts, memories, passions, and dreams—every last fiber of her being—would be molded to his designs, to his advantage.
In each of the other chambers lay another perfectly-copied clone of the other five mares in the group that wielded these "Elements of Harmony" awaiting the next stage of his plan. The thought of his labors being given physical form at long last brought a smile to his face. Soon enough, they could begin the task he had set before them.
Silvertongue smiled. "Excellent. Now then, Doctor, go ahead and finish your final preparations. I need to focus myself for the next stage. I should only need a few moments. Alone."
"Ja, Herr Silvertongue," Blutsauger acknowledged, hastily shuffling away.
Silvertongue breathed deep and let his magic waft about him.
Nihila quickly responded, as always.
"My Warden, you work quickly," she cooed, sending a shiver of cold through him. "I am pleased with your progress."
Silvertongue responded with his thoughts, not daring to speak aloud; nopony knew of his connection with Nihila, after all, except for himself. "I am as anxious to begin as you are, my lady. The stage has been set, and the actors are all in place. With your blessing, I may pull back the curtain and let our masterpiece perform for itself."
Nihila hesitated. A curious feeling, one he hadn't felt in a long while. "My Warden, I will be granting phenomenal magical powers to you, with which you will be gifting these creatures with life and power. Their bodies and souls will become molded to serve us. But I warn you, it will weaken me greatly, albeit temporarily. I will be unable to reach out from the Dreaming for a period."
"I have utmost confidence in my plan, my lady. These six mares that we are birthing this very hour are the perfect pawns to carry out this task. I have no doubt that the powers you are to bequeath upon them will be more than enough insurance that, even should our initial plan fail, they may still be of some use in the future."
"I am entrusting you with a great risk, my Warden. I know you will not disappoint me. You have my blessings. Continue your work and see to it personally if need be that my will be done."
"As you wish."
Silvertongue then felt the oddest sensation. Nihila's consciousness left him, but he did not feel empty. He instead felt empowered as her essence remained, filling with so much dark magic that for a fleeting second he feared it would tear him apart, unable to be contained by his physical form. Rivulets of orange magic coursed along the length of his horn.
"Herr Silvertongue!" called Blutsauger, shaking him from his awed stupor. "All of the preparations are complete, und we are ready to begin."
Silvertongue nodded, and strode away from his prized creations to a large machine opposite Blutsauger's workstation, where Blutsauger awaited him. The doctor assisted Silvertongue in attaching a mechanical brace to the latter's horn. Both the brace and machine were connected to cables of many different sizes and colors that stretched up to the ceiling then came down again and attached themselves to the mechanism holding the six containment pods.
Blutsauger checked the readouts on the nearby monitors to make sure everything had been connected properly, then trotted over to his workstation and made a few final adjustments.
"Now then, when you give the word, I will begin the energy transfer," he explained. He ran a hoof through his mane and adjusted his goggles. "Ach, this is mein first time performing this precise procedure, but it should not be much different than the others, ja? This time at least I have a blueprint instead of making everything from scratch."
Silvertongue took a deep breath. "I am ready to begin whenever you are, Doctor."
Blutsauger nodded and ignited his horn. He flicked switches, turned dials, adjusted levers, twisted knobs, and pushed buttons, then turned to the massive red power switch behind him. He took a sharp breath as he lifted it, and with a loud clang, it snapped into the on position.
Silvertongue felt a rush of electricity snap through his horn. The power in his body reacted to the amplification device he had designed, causing the machine to glow a dull red.
Blutsauger double-checked all his station's monitors, then gave a satisfied laugh. "Ha ha! We are all ready to go! Whenever you are ready, you may begin—" He dramatically lifted his hoof straight up into the air. "The magics!"
Silvertongue chuckled. "Then let us begin."
He churned his new powers slowly through the amplification machine's funnel, watching as the energy coursed through the cables above, causing them to glow a bright blue, and into the containment machine at the room's center. The machine rotated slightly and lifted one of the containment pods from the platform to the center, latching it firmly in place beneath the other end of the funnel.
The pony inside was orange. Applejack's clone. Blutsauger always did have a habit of doing things alphabetically.
Silvertongue licked his lips as the pod began to glow a dark orange, obscuring the pony inside from view. He allowed more of Nihila's magicks to flow forth until he was certain he'd drained a full sixth of it. He laced her magics with a portion of his own essence; a miniscule amount was all he needed, for it would be enough to ensure that his designs were properly carried out.
Darkness filled the room, shrouding everything in pitch black and leaving only the glow of the machines, the two unicorns' horns, and the pod to light the room. The room trembled once, causing the monitors to shake and their images to flicker.
Once the darkness had ebbed away, the machine stopped spinning. The containment pod remained shrouded in a dark mist, even as the machine pulled it away and lifted it towards the nearby wall, where it would be sent to an adjacent room for safekeeping and further monitoring.
Silvertongue snapped his hoof towards Blutsauger's station. "Halt the loading process, Doctor. I wish to look upon this first creation of mine."
"Ja, Herr Silvertongue." Blutsauger nodded and flicked a pair of switches beside his station, causing the pod to smoothly grind to a halt.
The black and purple mist slowly dissipated, and Silvertongue gazed into the pod. His first creation lay inside, alive, breathing, and kept in stasis to allow her body to adjust to the dark magicks that empowered her and gave her life. A smile crept upon his face. She was lovely.
Applejack's clone had been changed, no longer looking anything like her original self. Her orange coat had turned a vibrant blue. Her blond mane and tail became a dark red. Her figure was slightly leaner and more refined—beautiful, even—than the toned muscle of the original, but she was certainly not lacking in strength of her own. Her cutie mark would manifest after she awoke.
Silvertongue eagerly awaited the chance to see how her personality had changed from that of her counterpart, to see how well her mind had been altered compared to her body. But that could wait for later. He motioned to Blutsauger to send the pod on its way, then re-focused his magic.
There were still five more ponies to transform.
The machine spun and lifted up the clone of Fluttershy into the central slot. Silvertongue fueled the device with Nihila's magic, and the room darkened and shook. Fluttershy's counterpart was lifted away the same as Applejack's had been. Silvertongue did not signal to halt the process this time. He'd witnessed its effects upon Applejack's clone already, and knew he would soon see and meet the rest of these marvelous mares without squandering precious time.
Silvertongue repeated the process with Pinkie Pie's counterpart next, then with Rainbow Dash's, then with Rarity's and Fluttershy’s. The one he was most eagerly anticipating, Twilight Sparkle's clone, came last. Everything started off rather smoothly as he funneled Nihila's magic laced with his own through the amplifier.
But then, something went wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.
Several of the machines in the room shook violently, monitors shorting out or becoming overloaded with static. Silvertongue felt phenomenal power flowing outward from the clone of Twilight Sparkle as she was slowly transformed. He'd expected Twilight Sparkle and her copy to possess incredible power; one did not wield something called "the Element of Magic" without having outstanding magical potential.
The energy felt somehow familiar, though he could not recall where he'd felt it before.
He turned to Blutsauger's station, needing to shout for his voice to carry over the screeching of the machinery and swelling of magical energy. "Doctor! What is happening here?! Why is she reacting this way?!"
Blutsauger observed one of his readout meters, then leapt away as it burst apart. "Her magical levels are off the charts! I did not think anypony could contain this much magical energy!"
"What manner of magic is it?! This is neither Light nor Dark in nature!"
Blutsauger wiped his brow and adjusted his goggles to double-check his readings. "The machines cannot pinpoint the source! They do not recognize it!"
More of Nihila's power flowed into the machine, causing Twilight's clone to give off even more energy. Silvertongue felt it tickling his skin, making his mane and tail waft about as though there were a fierce breeze in the room. The hairs on his coat stood on end. So much of Nihila's power remained to give this mare, and yet her power still grew.
Several tense moments passed.
"Her energy readings are stabilizing," Blutsauger said as the machinery settled down. He ran a hoof through his mane and shook away sweat. "The safety parameters will hold for now. The starglass cannot withstand much more, but so long as her power does not increase, there should be no—"
A loud crack reverberated from the center of the room, knocking some of the taller machines over.
Blutsauger quickly trotted in and eyed the glass, then staggered back. "Impossible. Impossible! Her magic is cracking the glass!"
"What?!"
Silvertongue's eyes widened at the implications. The magical power required to break through starglass was extraordinarily high. He himself had trouble cracking through it, and as Nihila's Warden he was supposedly the most powerful unicorn in all of Equestria. Were Twilight Sparkle and her clone that powerful? As powerful as he was? More powerful?
Incredible.
Another crack. The fractures snaked along the surface of the glass like it was ice. The sound of pounding came from inside. Once. Twice.
Blutsauger leapt back as the glass snapped open, and galloped back to the safety of his workstation. "Nein! Impossible! Nein, nein, nein!"
The intense magic burst out the little pod, a fierce storm set loose into the chamber. Without its host to control it, the powerful magic acted of its own will. The magic sporadically took shape and flared about, lashing out randomly at nearby machines.
Silvertongue continued to pump more of Nihila's power into the amplifier, giving this wild and untamed magic more to work with. The cloud of darkness launched bolts of energy that ripped metal and glass apart like paper; it lashed out with fluidic tentacle-like strands, grasping at things and crushing them like toys.
Blutsauger clambered over to Silvertongue in a panic and groveled before him. "Herr Silvertongue, we must stop the process! Her powers will tear the room apart!"
"Stop? When we are so close?" Silvertongue snapped, pushing Blutsauger away. "We are only a few short moments away from bestowing life upon the most powerful mortal creature in this world, and you want to stop?" He jabbed a hoof in the direction of Blutsauger's workstation. "Get back to your station you miserable little foal, and keep her lifelines stable. I am not about to end this just because you are a pathetic coward."
Blutsauger gulped, and nodded as he backed away. "Ja… ja, I will just go back to mein station."
Blutsauger returned to his instruments, tweaking them in an attempt to calm the empowered mare's magic and not succeeding one bit. More of her increasing power flooded the room, tearing apart everything it touched. The doctor huddled under his workstation in terror.
Silvertongue remained undeterred, even as the magic lashed out at machines close to him. One bolt of magic flashed just past his ear, close enough that he could feel heat. Another exploded nearby, tearing apart a monitor station in a shower of metal, glass, and wires. He continued to stand firm, clenching his teeth and steadying his hooves.
One bolt of magic shot straight at him. He did not attempt to avoid it or block it, and trying to do either was impossible given the circumstances. All of his magic was maintaining the power transfer, and as long as he was latched into the amplifier, he couldn't move more than an inch at best.
When the black bolt struck him, he recoiled in agony. All he could see was black and red as darkness and blood flooded his vision. The blast exploded, shattering his monocle and ripping his eye apart.
A lesser pony might have blacked out or gone into shock, but Silvertongue was too far into this focus. He would not be deterred, not if it cost him life and limb. He'd worked too hard for far too long to reach this point. He was not about to stop now.
Only a little more.
He fought through the searing pain. It would not move him.
Only a little more.
He ignored the salty taste of blood. It would not shake him.
Only a little more.
He couldn't see straight. That would not deter him.
Only a little more.
It was done.
Silvertongue felt a saddening emptiness as the last of Nihila's magic fully transferred into the clone of Twilight Sparkle. The intense magicks calmed, and retreated back into their host.
Silvertongue roughly snapped the amplifier off his horn and stumbled out of the bracing device. He tripped over some of the broken debris of the room. He felt dizzy from the loss of blood.
Blutsauger jumped out from cover and ran to Silvertongue's aid, helping to keep him steady. "Herr Silvertongue, you've done it! The process was a complete success, und—" He trailed off, and his face paled. "Auweh, your eye—"
"It is a minor inconvenience." Silvertongue snorted, though his breathing was labored. He turned towards the center of the room, towards the heavily damaged machine in the center and the broken pod that lay in its remains. "Her pod is shattered. That means she will not be in stasis, correct?"
Blutsauger nodded. "Ja. She will not be in stasis without the containment pod sealed. Her life signs are stable, though. She will likely wake up on her own in a few moments."
"Excellent." Silvertongue smiled and licked his lips, ignoring the taste of blood. "Bring me to her."
Blutsauger hesitated. "Herr Silvertongue, shouldn't we get you some medical—"
"I said, bring me to her, Doctor. You can attend to my injuries later. I insist that they all see me soon after waking, and she is no exception. Bring me to her. Now."
Blutsauger sighed and wiped his brow. "Ja, natürlich." He assisted Silvertongue in hobbling towards the central platform.
The entire room had become a battlefield. Sparks of electricity jumped about from nearby machines. Debris had been scattered about. Smoke clouded the air. The pair had to walk carefully to avoid stepping on anything that might cause further injury.
Silvertongue insisted upon limping the rest of the way up the platform without Blutsauger's help. He came to the shattered pod, and beheld his sixth and final creation.
She had a rich, golden brown coat rather than the bright lavender of her original. Her long mane was cream colored and curled at the sides to frame her face. He had not expected this precise coloration to manifest, and he was struck with a brief pause as memories long gone flashed back to him, a wave of nostalgia unlike anything he'd felt for what felt like an eternity.
She looks just like—
The mare's eyes slowly fluttered open, barely conscious but very much awake. Very much alive.
Silvertongue shook away his lapse in focus and smiled down at her. "Rise and shine, little one."
*****
Hours later, Silvertongue stared into his personal mirror, scowling at the sight of the unicorn on the other side. Normally he would have gazed upon his visage, a testament to everything he believed in, with an air of pride. But from this day forward, he knew that he'd see that something had been robbed from him, something he would never see again upon that face:
Perfection.
Blutsauger's commendable work at repairing everything around his eye genuinely surprised him. No scars marred his face, his coat was as sleek and shiny as ever, and barring one single detail he could swear that nothing had happened at all.
But then, of course, that detail taunted him, reminding him of what he'd lost.
A strange darkness filled the void where Silvertongue's eye had once been; a black, ethereal stuff that drew all warmth from the air. A tiny speck of gold broke up the otherwise solid darkness, and where he looked, it moved. He could see clearly through it, more clearly than his original eye had ever been able.
The speck pulsed with magic that he was not intimately familiar with, though he felt the similarity between it and the magic that Twilight Sparkle's clone contained within her.
What should have been just the first step in the greatest accomplishment he'd achieved in a great many years was diminished by this one simple fact. It was rather… humbling.
A buzz from his intercom interrupted his thoughts.
"Ah, right on schedule," he said. He set his mirror upon his desk, then pressed a button on the intercom. "Yes?"
"Sir, Commander Jetstream is here as requested."
"Thank you, Shroud. Send him in."
Silvertongue lifted his wine glass and took a short sip, then leaned back in his chair and tapped his hooves together. His chamber door slid open; Jetstream entered the room. The commander was a pegasus stallion with a lean build and a square jaw. His coat was a dull blue, his mane a bright yellow. He wore a formal dress uniform—black, of course—decorated with medals.
Though Jetstream's pace was brisk and his expression alert, his eyes betrayed his exhaustion, as though he'd been roused from a deep sleep hours before he was supposed to, which was exactly what had happened; while one couldn't see the sun through the smog and orange haze over the city, Silvertongue knew it hadn't even peaked over the horizon yet. He himself had gone without sleep.
Jetstream quickly bowed before Silvertongue's desk. "Sir, reporting for duty."
Silvertongue stared at Jetstream, unblinking, for several moments, not even gesturing for the soldier to rise from his bow. "Commander," he said, "you look as though you've had a rough morning."
Jetstream remained bowed, as Silvertongue had yet to permit him to do otherwise. "I apologize, sir, if my appearance isn't in ideal condition. I was led to believe that haste was of utmost importance."
"Ideal condition indeed. I suppose nopony can maintain such a thing forever, anyway." Silvertongue snorted and sat upright in his chair, at last gesturing for the soldier to rise, which he did. "But you are correct, time is of the essence. I have a task for you, Jetstream, one that fits your talents and training quite well. A weapons test."
"A… weapons test, sir?" Jetstream asked, cocking an eyebrow. "That pertains to my skill set?"
"Indeed. You are amongst the best field commanders in the entire special ops division, with multiple commendations on record for your handling of AMP troopers. It's why your father recommended you to join my ranks, after all, is it not? Or is that another Commander Jetstream?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"The weapons that are being tested require target practice, and so thus they require targets. A firing range will not suffice; they require moving targets, targets that will fight back and test their full capabilities. AMP troops are ideal for the task, and I wish for the best of the best in the endeavor." Silvertongue gestured to Jetstream. "Hence the early morning call."
Jetstream smiled and saluted. "Sir! You will not be disappointed, sir! I am at your command."
"Excellent." Silvertongue leaned back in his seat and waved the commander away. "The test will proceed in an hour. In the meantime, help yourself to some breakfast and get cleaned up. I will not have you in my presence unwashed and disheveled during the test, understood?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Then you are dismissed."
Jetstream saluted again, and off he went.
Silvertongue sighed and turned his attention back to the mirror, to gaze upon what he had lost. A part of him was outraged at what had happened, but he knew such anger was time and effort wasted on self-pity. He had no room for that in his schedule. As he set the mirror down, he knew that the injury didn't even really matter in the long run. Events were already in motion, and this would not affect his plans in the least.
*****
Silvertongue stood in an observation chamber overlooking the testing ground for the "weapons test" as he had described it to Jetstream. Truth be told he didn't like the phrase or even the fact that this "test" was being conducted, but Nihila's terms of this plan were clear. The six mares that he had created and infused with her power had been granted abilities that would be of use at a later time, when they took the fight to Harmonia directly.
Whether Nihila could see the test being conducted or not was irrelevant; she would want results, and he needed to deliver them to keep her satisfied. It was little more than a distraction for the crux of the plan at present, but he figured he may as well do it properly and with the maximum effort possible to ensure that everything went smoothly. Quickly, yes, which is why the mares hadn't been given much time to acclimate themselves just yet and why this test was being conducted before sunrise, but quick did not mean he had to cut corners.
The arena below was large enough to comfortably hold at least one hundred ponies with plenty of room to stand and maneuver, so it would serve well as a testing ground. At present, it was occupied by a total of forty ponies, each clad in heavy armor from head-to-tail. They weren't flesh and blood ponies, of course, but robotic ones designed for field combat. Automated Mechanical Ponies. They stood in terse formation as they awaited orders from their commander, as was in their programming.
Commander Jetstream, who would be directing these robotic troops, stood in the observation room with Silvertongue, a visor over his face that would be used to control the machines below. Also present was Doctor Blutsauger, primarily to observe the mares after their tests and ensure that use of their powers had no negative side effects. The datapad he carried would do all of the work and truthfully anypony could do it, but Blutsauger was here for other reasons.
"Alright, I'm all synced up. Shall we proceed with the test, sir?" Jetstream asked, a hint of eagerness in his voice that hinted at his youthful vigor; a hearty breakfast, quick though it was, had been enough to reinvigorate him.
"Yes, I think we shall," Silvertongue replied. He turned to Blutsauger. "Initiate the test, Doctor."
Blutsauger nodded. "Ja, Herr Silvertongue."
The doctor pressed a button on his datapad, and a number of things happened all at once. The thick, iron gate on the far side of the arena creaked open, allowing the first subject to trot into the arena. A display on a nearby monitor displayed a great deal of data, so much that it was easy to lose oneself in it; most importantly, it presented the status of the AMP troopers below as well as readings on the physiology of the mare currently being tested, from her heartbeat to her brainwaves.
The mare in question was a pegasus. She had a slender, athletic build and was shorter than average, but her figure still filled out the silver jumpsuit she was wearing. Her coat was sporty red, while her mane and tail resembled a skunk—jet black with a streak of white down the center. She wore her mane short and wavy, though her tail was still rather long and dragged against the floor behind her. Her cutie mark—visible through a slit in the jumpsuit—was a meteorite burning up in the atmosphere.
At first, the mare did nothing, just entered into the arena as the door closed behind her and stared out at the AMP troopers before her.
Jetstream cocked an eyebrow. "Just one mare, sir? I thought this was a weapons test?"
"It is, Jetstream. What seems to be the misunderstanding?" Silvertongue asked, a glimmer of a grin on his face.
"Well, sir, I see no weapons on her. I'm afraid I don't understand. Unless that silly jumpsuit is supposed to be armor or something?"
"Of course not, dummkopf," Blutsauger huffed. "You are too focused on guns und missiles to know what a real weapon is. This mare is the weapon, ja?"
Jetstream rolled his eyes. "Another attempt at your 'super soldier' bullshit, then? What a waste of time and resources. A pony with super strength or endurance can still be killed by a flechette round to the skull, and then what are you left with? A superpony with their brains plastered all over the floor."
Blutsauger sneered. "Spoken like the blind soldier that you are. You have no vision."
"My only vision is further improvements to the AMPs. I'll take a platoon of reliable soldiers that don't get tired or hungry and feel no remorse or fear over some genetic experiment any day. Especially one in a tacky jumpsuit.” Jetstream scoffed. “Let me guess, your idea? It doesn't leave much to the imagination."
Blutsauger sputtered in indignation, but otherwise said nothing else.
"If you're so certain of yourself, Jetstream, then proceed with the test," Silvertongue said, placing his hoof on Jetstream's shoulder. "You already know the parameters: lethal force is authorized. Don't hold back on account of the subject's safety; if she cannot handle what you throw at her, then so be it."
Out of the corner of his eye, Silvertongue noticed Blutsauger gulp quietly.
Jetstream paused, then nodded. "Sir, yes sir. Full lethal." He turned back towards the arena and tapped a few buttons on his visor, issuing commands with facial gestures and button presses in conjunction. "Here we go, then. Commencing test on your mark, sir."
Silvertongue nodded and pressed a button to enable the intercom in the arena. "Testing begins… now."
Jetstream's soldiers fired a volley of flechette rounds from shoulder-mounted guns towards the seemingly defenseless mare.
Silvertongue watched, amused, as the mare took off into the air above the rounds like a rocket and, without warning, launched herself into the fray, a barely visible trail of fire in her wake. She was a living missile, fast and with a single-minded, violent purpose.
And she was just as loud as a missile, too, shouting at the top of her lungs as she moved, slamming her hooves into the nearest troopers she could find with enough fury to crack the glass in their helmets and dent their metal armor.
Jetstream was taken aback for a moment. "Wow, she's fast. Impressive." He smirked and tapped his visor a few more times. "But let's see her deal with this."
The troops that were still standing after her initial assault—which was the vast majority of them, as she'd only taken out three—surrounded her and armed their flechette launchers. She seemed to realize her disadvantage and took to the air again, high up above the crowd.
The soldiers all launched their rounds in a salvo that spread throughout the air. The mare was still fast enough to avoid the rounds, but the arena was so thick with death-bringing flechettes that she couldn't go on the offensive; she had no means to strike back, not with typical pegasus combat maneuvers.
That is, until she swept low to the ground, one of her hooves glowing white hot. A spark ignited, followed by a flame, which she then launched directly into the nearest AMP trooper.
The tiny fireball exploded spectacularly, sending strips of shrapnel flying every which way.
Jetstream's jaw dropped. "What the hell was that? Was that magic? But she's a pegasus!"
Blutsauger chortled. "The wonders of this latest project, ja? Infusing normal ponies with incredible powers that they would not normally have. I believe the common vernacular is 'superpowers'?"
"You mean like a comic book character?" Jetstream asked. "We can do that? What am I asking, obviously we can; I just saw it. I think." He glanced out at the arena while the mare was still blasting his soldiers with raging fire. "So she has… for-real superpowers, sir?"
Silvertongue nodded. "Though I am not fond of the vernacular myself, yes, that is essentially what we have accomplished. A perfectly ordinary pony just like yourself but infused with magic to give her special abilities. The process gifted her with control over Pyromancy magic. A somewhat limited school, but quite effective in combat. If she uses it in conjunction with her speed and ferocity, she'd be quite the threat on the battlefield, wouldn't you agree?"
"Sir, yes sir," Jetstream said slowly. "I've never seen anything like this before. How—"
"Focus on the test, Jetstream, if you would please?" Silvertongue tutted. "The particulars of the process aren't for you to know, and I doubt you would understand them anyway. You are merely here for the testing procedure."
Silvertongue watched as the mare in the arena fired another fireball and blew apart another soldier, then flew through the explosion undeterred, cackling all the way. She looped around and fired another, and another. The bursts were getting bigger with every shot.
Jetstream was losing troopers fast.
The commander shook off his stupor and tapped his visor again; his troopers took aim and fired once more, this time in tighter intervals to force her in particular directions.
The mare simply swept around in rolls and loops, nimbly avoiding all of the incoming salvo. A few rounds came close, though, and dangerously so; a single one of those high-velocity darts could rip through flesh and bone like wet tissue paper.
She did not look at all happy about nearly getting hit.
The mare struck up another pair of flames, smashing them together to create a billowing sphere of fire. She lobbed it towards the center of the largest cluster of troops.
The explosion was powerful enough to shake the glass of the observation chamber. It left behind a towering pillar of fire and smoke, plus the wreckage of over a dozen more AMP troopers.
The mare stood with her back to the blaze, mirthfully laughing, waving her hooves around to make the fire dance, creating an effective smokescreen.
"I think we've seen enough for now," Silvertongue said.
Jetstream nodded and ordered what was left of his platoon—far less than half—to fall back to their original positions.
Silvertongue pressed a button to activate the intercom. It drew the mare's attention. "That will be all, Havoc," he said. "That was quite an impressive display."
The mare pumped her hooves excitedly. "Hell yeah it was impressive, Pops! Booyah!" she cheered, her voice distorted by the glass of the observation chamber's protective window.
Silvertongue turned to Blutsauger. "Send in the next one."
"Ja, Herr Silvertongue."
Another series of presses on his display, and the arena door opened again to let the pegasus mare—Havoc—leave the arena, while sprinklers overhead doused the fire that was slowly raging out of control in the center of the room.
Entering next was an earth pony mare dressed in the same jumpsuit that Havoc was wearing, which hugged her ample curves tightly. She had a pink coat and a darker pink mane and tail, the latter of which she wore straight and long. Her cutie mark was a delicious-looking cupcake, red with white frosting.
"Heh, break a leg out there," Havoc said to the other mare. "No, seriously. Break a leg. That'd be hilarious."
The earth pony kept her gaze forward, ignoring the pegasus.
Havoc snorted and stomped her hoof. "Hey. Hey! I'm talking to you! Don't ignore me!"
The earth pony ignored her but was smiling; she was clearly enjoying this.
Havoc snarled, then stuck her nose in the air. "Psh, whatever. Bite me."
The earth pony slowly tilted her head sideways and smirked. "Sorry, but you're not my type."
The pegasus looked like she was about to retort, but clearly was at a loss for anything clever. Instead she resorted to: "Ah, screw you."
She trotted away in a huff, leaving the earth pony behind.
"Like I said, you're not my type!" the earth pony called back as the arena door closed. She shrugged. "Eh, whatever."
In the meantime, a series of AMP troopers were ushered into the arena via a door beneath the observation chamber, replenishing the original supply back up to its original forty.
Silvertongue pressed the intercom button. "Testing begins… now."
Jetstream's soldiers wasted no time firing flechette rounds at their new target.
The mare grinned, and shot forward to duck under them.
This was, of course, impossible, a fatal error of the highest degree. Multiple rounds pierced through her flesh; she fell limp in a bloody heap only a yard away from her starting point.
The troops started reloading rounds.
"Ha!" Jetstream exclaimed, poking Blutsauger in the chest; the doctor mostly ignored him, just staring out into the arena, a worried expression on his face. "See? Told you they could be taken down easily enough. I bet if I had some different loadouts I'd have been able to take out the pegasus, too."
Silvertongue gestured into the arena, where the mare was still clearly moving. "Don't be so quick to celebrate, Jetstream. Look."
The mare in the arena struggled to rise to her hooves, her legs bleeding profusely and her body riddled with holes. She could barely stand; the rounds had ripped apart skin, muscle, and bone alike. Blutsauger looked quite relieved by that.
Jetstream cocked an eyebrow. "She survived that? Huh…" He nodded to Blutsauger briefly. "Credit where credit is due, Doc. She took more than one bullet, even." He tapped his visor. "Oh well. I doubt she'll survive another volley."
His troops fired again.
Silvertongue watched with rapt attention as the mare didn't just stand back up, but defended herself. How she did so was, strictly speaking, medically impossible.
Her blood moved entirely on its own. A thick stream flowed from the many gaping wounds on her body and flared upwards, forming a shield that protected her from the bullets.
She staggered to her hooves and stepped awkwardly towards the nearest formation of soldiers. Her eyes were hidden by her blood-drenched mane, but she bore a wide, toothy grin.
Another stream of blood lashed out, grabbing one of the soldiers by the face. It squeezed until the soldier's head popped in its grip. The soldier attempted to aim its guns at her, but the tendril slammed it harshly into the ground.
Another stream took on a thin, blade-like shape, and rapidly sliced through the middle of another trooper. The clean cuts didn't appear until just as it moved, and it crumbled into multiple pieces.
A nearby trooper attempted to pounce on her with static-charged hooves. Another stream of blood twisted up to meet it, forming a spike that impaled it through the neck. She violently tossed it aside, flinging it into another formation.
Jetstream gulped. "What… what is this?" he asked as she tore through mechanical troopers with minimal effort, one by one in violent displays that would be rather gruesome were her opponents flesh and blood rather than machines.
"Hemomancy," Silvertongue said simply, watching as one of the soldiers shot her in the spine, which did as much to stop her assault as one could stop a hurricane with a brick. "It is a magic school related to the manipulation of blood. Her control over it is rather impressive, but incomplete. She should also be able to— ah, it would seem I spoke too soon."
The pool of blood she left in her wake converged on her, snaking its way back into her many wounds which seamlessly repaired themselves until she was able to walk normally. She looked as though she hadn't even been touched, let alone mortally wounded by flechette bullets that tore her apart.
"She can even heal herself with such an ability?" Jetstream asked. "That's—"
"Incredible," Silvertongue finished with a grin. "Accelerated regenerative capabilities as well as applicable offensive ones, both hallmarks of a true master of the craft. A full suite of control over her own bloodstream. Very impressive, if I do say so myself. " He turned on the intercom. "That will be all, Red Velvet. Well done."
The earth pony's fierce expression instantly changed to one of joy, and she gave a little wave towards the observation chamber. "Thanks, Daddy! I'm glad you liked it!"
Silvertongue turned to Blutsauger. "Next."
Blutsauger nodded and tapped his datapad to summon the next mare in the sequence.
Again, the arena doors opened so that the mare in the arena could exit, and a new one could enter.
The next mare was another pegasus, though she was built quite a bit larger than the previous one. She was taller than even the average male pegasi by a fair inch or two, and had a muscular frame that filled out her jumpsuit completely. Her coat was a rather simple gray, and her shoulder-length mane was bi-colored, slate and stone gray on either half; she’d dyed a magenta streak straight down the middle of both her mane and tail. Unlike the others, she wore accessories; in her case, a set of silver, metal boots decorated with red and gold gems. Her cutie mark was a gray cloud pouring down rain.
Red Velvet hopped over to the larger pegasus—the latter practically dwarfed the former—and stopped dead in her tracks. "Good luck out there, sis! You've already got some competition from me and Havoc, huh?"
The pegasus didn't respond. Even from here her facial expression made it crystal clear how she felt about all of this: pure, unadulterated boredom, as if she'd rather be anyplace other than here doing anything other than this at any other time of the day and with anypony else present but the perky pink pony next to her.
"Aww, get a load of Miss Sourpuss over here!" Velvet chuckled. She put her hooves on the sides of the bigger mare's face, scrunching up her cheeks. "'Oh, look at me, I'm so bored, boo hoo, you woke me from my nap'," she said in a mocking monotone. "Get a grip, sis! This is supposed to be fun!"
The other mare grabbed Velvet with one hoof and, without an ounce of effort, tossed her over her shoulder before stepping further into the arena.
Velvet blew her mane out of her face. "Wow! Nice throw!" she said with a wide smile. "Well, good luck! Don't screw up!"
Jetstream shook his head and watched as more AMPs were funneled into the arena to replenish his numbers. "These mares of yours are something else, sir," he said, absently flexing his wings. "Are they, uh… all mares?"
"Yes," Silvertongue said, clear and simple.
Silvertongue could tell that the commander was staring at the new mare's impressive wingspan; as a pegasus, he was clearly intimidated by a mare her size, or perhaps captivated was more appropriate. It was rather amusing seeing the commander acting his age; Silvertongue had forgotten Jetstream was barely out of the military academy and probably still dealing with hormones.
Ah, youth.
Silvertongue shook his head and chuckled. "Testing begins…" he said, tapping the intercom button, "now."
The other mare didn't move, just watched as the AMP troopers armed their flechette launchers and approached her.
Jetstream shrugged. "Well, as much as I hate to hurt a pretty face."
The troopers fired.
The mare snapped her wings open and dug her hooves into the floor.
All at once, the flechette rounds that had been fired scattered in various directions, diverting their paths away from their target and impacting the walls behind her instead, as though repelled by some invisible force.
The front row of AMPs rushed forward, their hooves charged with lethal levels of electricity.
The mare flapped her wings once; the entire row of troops approaching her slowed to a crawl until they eventually couldn't move. As each of them attempted to take another step, their legs collapsed under their own weight, and the mechanical ponies crumbled like nothing more than tin cans.
Then, she took the offensive.
She soared into the air while the other rows of troops were reloading, then slammed down, hooves first, into the floor in the middle of the formation. The impact was so great that it sent AMPs flying around the room; this was despite the fact that the AMP troopers weighed in excess of eight hundred pounds.
"What sort of superpower is this, sir?" Jetstream asked, apparently growing accustomed to the fact that these mares were using magical abilities—"superpowers", if that made Jetstream more comfortable—they should not have.
"Graviturgy, the manipulation of gravitational forces," Silvertongue explained, rubbing his chin. "She can generate gravitational fields around herself and others with a flick of her wings. The fields can be so minute and yet so powerful that they can divert a bullet's path, or crush an AMP trooper like an aluminum can."
"And what's with the boots?"
"Impact absorbers, which will prevent her from shattering her bones—or worse—when she strikes the ground with heightened force due to her increased mass and velocity."
Jetstream watched the mare tear apart more AMPs by flinging them around the room like ragdolls. He turned to Blutsauger and gave a little grin. "Good show, Doc. I take back what I said earlier. If your project can produce soldiers like this, just think of the kind of damage we can do to Hope's Point."
Blutsauger adjusted his goggles. "Ja, maybe, but I do not think we are planning that far ahead yet. Herr Silvertongue has something else in mind for them, I believe, ja?"
Silvertongue activated the intercom again. "That will be all, Gray Skies. A wonderful performance."
The large mare in the arena came to a stop before destroying another trooper, then glanced at the observation deck and gave a short nod. "Thanks, Dad."
"Send in the next one," Silvertongue said to Blutsauger.
Blutsauger nodded, tapped his datapad, and again the arena door opened so the mares could trade places.
The next mare was a unicorn, her coat charcoal black and her mane and tail a stark shade of yellow—not blonde, yellow, like a caution sign. Her mane was a total mess, looking like some poor attempt to give herself luscious curls that didn't quite pan out. Even her coat wasn't clean like the other mares' had been, instead covered in sweat and even a little dirt. At least her jumpsuit was clean, though. Her cutie mark was a trio of plain-looking coals.
As Gray Skies walked by, the unicorn lifted a hoof and grinned broadly. "High hoof!"
The pegasus just stared at her.
The unicorn nervously glanced between her hoof and Gray. "Like… uh, high hoof? C'mooon."
Gray shook her head and just kept walking past the unicorn.
"Hey! That's, like, totally uncool and junk? Don't leave me hanging!" The arena door shut behind Gray. "Tch, major unfresh. What-ever."
The AMP troops were replenished.
Silvertongue activated the intercom. "Testing begins… now."
The first row of troopers fired their flechette rounds.
The mare yelped, swiftly raising a barrier spell to protect herself. It was an awkward cast, so while none of the bullets had gotten through, they hadn't been properly reflected either. Instead, they clattered harmlessly to the ground around her.
"Hey! No fair! I don't get fancy shooty-thingies!" she shouted.
Jetstream snorted. "This one is… interesting, sir. Does she not have anything special like the others?"
"She does," Silvertongue said, keeping his reply short and sweet. "Continue the test, Jetstream. You might have to work it out of her the hard way."
"Hmm. Alright, let's try out the shock applicators."
He ordered a row of AMPs forward to pound on her shield with their electrically-charged hooves.
"Hey! Hey! Get off!" she cried. "No fair, I don't have sparky hoovsies either!" She paused, sniffing the air as though she caught some scent. "Wait. But, like, I can get sparky hoovsies! C'mere!"
Her horn flared, and an aura of gold magic grabbed one of the surrounding troopers, snapping it into the shield. Its visor shattered on impact.
"Aha! I knew I smelled magic! Gimme gimme gimme!"
She jabbed a hoof into the machine's face. The trooper wantonly fired off sparks, as if it had been struck by an incredible electric shock.
She dropped it to the floor, and her body glowed bright gold for a brief moment. Without warning, she released her barrier and aimed her hoof at the next-nearest soldier to her. A ferocious bolt of lightning burst out of her hoof and ripped into her target, tearing it to pieces.
Jetstream's jaw dropped. "What was that? What did she just do?"
"This ability is not technically a school of magic," Silvertongue explained, "but rather a particular style of using magic. Vampiracation involves the absorption and duplication of magic from something other than oneself. In this particular case, she absorbed the electrical energy from the AMP trooper and duplicated it… and apparently manipulated how it is used."
He found that last part particularly interesting, as typically one shouldn't be able to alter the original source of magic by much; the AMP's shock applicator delivered an electrical surge upon impact, not at range, so technically it wasn't possible to launch lightning bolts with it. There was a great deal of potential there if she could do such a thing with other schools.
"But sir, the AMP troopers' weapons aren't magical, how can she absorb them like that?" Jetstream asked.
"The AMPs are a technomagic construct, and thus utilize magic and technology together to function. She absorbed the magical energy that powers the shock applicator, which is nothing more than a localized font of Electromancy channeled through the troopers' conductive hooves. It's rather simple, actually, in a brilliant sort of way."
"This mare must be pretty intelligent to figure that out," Jetstream murmured, stroking his chin.
"Or just lucky," Blutsauger commented with a jovial smirk.
Silvertongue tired of watching the mare below blasting AMPs into shrapnel; with limited targets, there was little room to display the full extent of her abilities, impressive though they were, and she wasn't doing anything else new with them. "A fine display, Insipid. You may stop now."
"Yay! You liked it?!" the unicorn squealed, clapping her hooves. "Oh. My. Stars. This is, like, the best. Possible. Thing. Eeee!"
"I believe we are ready for the final test, Blutsauger," Silvertongue said. "Send her in."
Blutsauger nodded, tapped his datapad, and once again the arena door opened.
Another unicorn mare—this one with a golden brown coat and a creamy mane and tail elegantly styled to frame her face—was already waiting for her turn. Like the others she was wearing a silver, form-fitting jumpsuit that showed off her cutie mark, a gleaming silver sword overlaid upon a glowing sun.
The first unicorn, Insipid, skipped airly towards the arena exit, waving giddily as she passed by the newcomer, who merely gave a half-hearted nod of acknowledgement.
The AMP troopers replenished their numbers.
Silvertongue activated the intercom. "Testing begins… now."
Jetstream ordered all of his troops to fire their flechette rounds in unison.
The new mare's horn glowed as bright as a star, and a shockwave of energy cascaded throughout the arena. The closest soldiers to her were lifted into the air, flailing about as they attempted to re-acquire a lock. The flechette rounds that had been fired had all been caught in a glowing field of energy less than a yard from their target.
She twirled her collection of machines and bullets around, dancing them through the air like toys. "Lamentable. Inadequate. Uninspiring. Suffice to say, I am not impressed with the threat presented," she droned. "Now allow me to demonstrate what constitutes a threat."
Her magic twisted all of the flechette rounds she'd caught in front of her and arranged them into a ball. Without warning, the projectiles rapidly shot outwards in random directions, ripping apart mechanical ponies like tissue paper.
The troopers she'd lifted up with her magic remained untouched; the ones just behind those were completely destroyed.
The third line finished reloading and fired again.
She swept the robots she held through the line of fire with dazzling speed, using them as shields to soak up all of the incoming fire. Once the third line ran out of ammo, she discarded her makeshift shields, or rather the wreckage that was left of them.
A full two-thirds of the platoon was gone in the span of some twenty seconds.
The remaining troops reloaded and fired again.
She placed up a barrier at the last second, reflecting flechette rounds in every direction. Many of the AMPs were struck and mangled as the rounds bounced back with precise aim.
Five soldiers remained out of the forty that started. Less than one minute had passed.
The unicorn stepped forward, her horn aglow, and grabbed those that remained in the golden aura of her magic.
The glow around one grew bright, and the soldier it held compacted on itself, crushed like a tin can.
She flung another upwards into the air with so much force that it slammed into the ceiling and shattered.
The third glowed a bright white and disappeared with a flash and a pop. A teleportation spell. Where it had been teleported to, nopony knew but her.
The fourth exploded from the inside as its energy core went critical, sending shrapnel flying in all directions.
The fifth was struck with a bolt of energy that pierced through its head and impacted the wall behind it, melting the metal at the impact point.
Silvertongue knew that simultaneous spell-casting was possible, though limited, difficult, and exhausting for all but the most talented of unicorns, at least when concerning things other than simple telekinetics or basic-level illusions and barriers. She'd been using some exceedingly complicated magic, yet did not look at all the worse for wear.
If anything, she actually looked dissatisfied with her performance, as though she'd been given an inadequate gift for her birthday. Considering the entire platoon had been destroyed in less than the time it took to brush one's teeth, the posturing seemed unnecessary and misplaced; the average unicorn could only dream of such capability.
But then he knew that this mare was no average unicorn, and she obviously knew it just as well.
"How astonishingly soporific," she said, rolling her eyes. "I anticipated that this would offer only a modicum of challenge, but at present all that I have witnessed is a rather pathetic exhibition. Is not the intention of this 'test' evaluating my innumerable, prodigious talents?"
Silvertongue chuckled lightly to himself. He was already impressed with the display, but this one was so certain of herself and her incredible power that he saw no need to deny her the opportunity to display more of it if she so wished. The others had all been given a fair amount of time to practice and preen, so why not her?
A press of a button replenished the supply of AMP troopers; another platoon of forty arrived through the heavy iron gateway below the observation deck, and Jetstream readied them for the next round as they formed up.
Silvertongue glanced over to see that the pegasus was just staring into the arena, his mouth hanging open slightly in a stunned stupor, clearly impressed with the latest mare's power as much as he was. His button presses and commands weren't slowed by his entranced state, but one could be forgiven for assuming he'd gone brain-dead at that moment.
The mare just laughed at the machines as they approached. "Well! I had certainly hoped we could mobilize more than just an inadequate rabble of machines, but I suppose I am aware of the impossibility of such. A shame, but it will suffice."
She shook her head and ignited her horn, shrouding the gate the troops were walking in with a bright pink aura.
As soon as the last trooper appeared, she slammed the door closed on top of it. She then ripped the gate off its hinges and proceeded to smash the other soldiers with the giant slab of metal, one at a time.
Silvertongue watched with rapt attention, more than just impressed at this point with the power on display. The gate weighed several tons and was designed to hold a Gargantuan patriarch, a creature stronger than twenty ponies and just as big. A single unicorn could never lift such a thing with such ease; even he, with all of his power, experience, and knowledge would have struggled to do the same.
But her? She swept it around as if it weighed nothing at all; it was little more than a flyswatter slapping at bothersome pests.
The massive object pummeled the soldiers, scattering mechanical parts in all directions. Jetstream ordered his units to spread out to minimize the damage. As they moved, he ordered them to open fire.
She casually teleported herself out of harm's way, not even dropping her weapon in the process.
She crushed the rest of the new platoon with the gate, then merely laughed and tossed it aside, leaving just one soldier remaining.
"I am to understand that these automatons constitute the bulk of the city's military force, am I not?" she said as she approached the final trooper.
Jetstream, likely just as curious as Silvertongue to see her display, didn't issue any orders for it to defend itself, so it stood dead still and silent even in the face of its imminent demise.
She lit her horn again, lifting the robot into the air. Her magic took the thing apart like one would do a toaster oven that wasn't working properly. Every single piece of machinery jettisoned outwards, spreading in the air, all in the span of a moment and with the delicacy of a surgeon.
"A mundane little thing, isn't it?" she mused. "So much enterprise and ingenuity employed to manufacture such a pitiable construct."
She floated over a small cube-shaped component that had been removed from its chest, no bigger than an orange. "Ah, the central processing unit. The machine's heart and soul, so to speak. Powerful enough to calculate elaborate physics trajectories in the merest fractions of a second—" She snapped it in half. "And yet so fragile."
Jetstream just shook his head, dumbstruck. "She destroyed two entire platoons in under five minutes. With just… regular unicorn magic. Lots of it, sure, but… is she just a regular unicorn, sir? I mean, she has no superpowers?"
"That she is," Silvertongue said with a small grin. "She is 'just' a regular unicorn. She does not possess any additional special abilities like the others, and has no specialization in any particular school of magic—at least that I am aware of—or secondary tools to assist her. The process infused her with pure, unadulterated power."
He tapped the intercom button. "Golden Dawn, that will be all. An exemplary display."
She nodded at the observation deck. "Thank you, Father."
He turned to Blutsauger. "Our testing is concluded for now, Doctor. Open the gate so that the others may gather."
"Ja, Herr Silvertongue," Blutsauger said, tapping his datapad.
"I will be down shortly to meet with you and the others," Silvertongue said into the intercom. "Have everypony line up and await my arrival."
"Yes, Father," the mare said with another nod.
Silvertongue turned to Jetstream. "Come, you should meet them as well, Commander. You've become a part of this as much as myself or Blutsauger, as far as I'm concerned. We could not complete these tests adequately without your skills, and it would do you good to ingratiate yourself with them early on."
"Sir? I'm not sure I understand what you mean. Am… am I to command them in battle or something?"
"Oh no, Commander, that is far from the truth. Most likely it will one day be quite the opposite," Silvertongue mused. "They are the future, though, and one cannot benefit enough from knowing the future, wouldn't you agree?"
Jetstream nodded, though he was clearly confused and didn't understand his employer's meaning. "Uh… sir, yes sir."
It took only a moment to leave the observation deck, descend some stairs, and enter into the arena via a small door that otherwise blended into the walls. As Silvertongue entered, he saw that the five mares—except Golden Dawn—were in the midst of some sort of discussion.
An argument, more like, given how Havoc was shouting and Insipid was whining and they were generally making a lot of noise; even Gray Skies was involved in it, if only to use her hooves to keep Havoc and Velvet apart so that hooves didn't start flying. They were acting like foals; it was unbecoming.
"Ladies. Calm yourselves," Silvertongue said smoothly as he approached. "You are grown mares. Act like it."
Those four obeyed instantly, lining up without another word alongside Dawn. Silvertongue's mouth curled in a smile as he looked over the five of them, each one standing straight and tall.
"An admirable display, all of you," he said, stepping down towards the end of the line. "It gladdens me to see that the infusion process was a complete success, and that there appear to be no ill side effects. Now then, I suppose you are all excited to learn how well you performed, yes?"
They all nodded enthusiastically, save Dawn, who simply bore a cocksure grin, and Gray, whose nod was slight.
Silvertongue laughed. "Ah, but before I administer my evaluations, our dear Doctor Blutsauger needs to give you all a brief examination. While there are no visible side effects from the infusion process, we cannot leave anything to chance." He gestured for Blutsauger to step forward. "Doctor, you may proceed."
Blutsauger trotted forward, a wide smile on his face. "Ja, this will not take long, Herr Silvertongue. As you said, just some diagnostics, ja? This will take seconds."
He stepped up to Dawn and pressed his hoof on his datapad. It glowed, sending out a beam of light that enshrouded her in a dull blue glow. He hummed to himself and pushed some buttons on the pad, then brightened when the device's glow turned bright green.
"Wunderbar! You are in peak physical condition, meine liebste," he said, adjusting his goggles. "Und that was a fine display in the test, ja? A phenomenal display of power. Very impressive. I can see why you were saved for the climax."
Dawn nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Doctor."
Blutsauger nodded and went down the line, performing the same quick examinations on the other four mares. Silvertongue was glad to hear that there'd been no internal issues with their powers in use. He knew that normal ponies typically did not react well to Nihila's magic coursing through them; some were physically affected, others mentally. That these five were all in peak physical and mental condition was a testament to his careful oversight.
When Blutsauger completed the examinations, he returned to Silvertongue's side and saluted. "All done, Herr Silvertongue. They are all in prime physical condition, ja?" he said, glancing at the line of mares. "None of them sustained any injuries in the first place, with one exception, und Red Velvet has recovered from her injuries completely, as if they weren't even there. I am impressed!"
"Excellent, Doctor," Silvertongue said, gesturing for Blutsauger to stand at ease. "Now then, for my evaluations."
Silvertongue walked over to the last pony in the line, Havoc, going in the order that they had been tested in. She beamed wide and lifted her hoof up as if expecting him to give her a hoofbump.
He left her hanging; it was unprofessional to do otherwise.
"Havoc," he started, leveling her with a serious expression. "First, let me express my disappointment in you for beginning your test by utilizing such lowbrow combat techniques. This test's intention was to evaluate your control over your powers, not how well you could 'kick ass', as you would say."
Havoc's smile dropped and her hoof fell limp to the floor.
"However, the rest of your display was quite impressive, and while it did not excuse the disappointing beginning, it was enough to increase your average," Silvertongue continued. "In the future, remember, always bring your full power to bear against your opponent. Do not lower yourself to their level. Eighty-nine points."
Havoc sighed. "Yeah, Pops, I get it. Open with the big guns from now on."
Next up was Red Velvet, who looked up at Silvertongue with a proud grin.
"Red Velvet," he said, "you displayed exceptional fortitude and capability for both enduring and distributing pain. Your ability is exemplary, and I see no need to advise you on improving it, other than continuous practice to hone your skills. Also, a word of advice: while your healing factor is impressive, I'd avoid letting vital areas be harmed; there is no telling what you can or cannot heal from just yet. Ninety-five points."
"Thank you, Daddy," she said, bowing down on one knee. "I'm glad you liked it."
Next was Gray Skies, who stomped a hoof and stood at even firmer attention, were that possible. She stood nearly eye-to-eye with him, an impressive feat considering he was used to towering over most other ponies; a quick glance at Jetstream saw that the other pegasus was trying not to stare at her wings and had a mild tinge of pink in his cheeks. He was actually surprised; he never took Jetstream as the sort to be nervous around a mare before.
"Gray Skies," Silvertongue said, "you displayed an acute understanding of physics and gravity, utilizing it to bring tremendous force to bear against your opponent. There is little else to say. I am impressed at how much power you wield, and am eager to see how much control over it you truly have. Ninety-nine points."
Gray bowed down as Velvet had done. "I guess I deserve that. Thanks, Dad."
Next was Insipid, who beamed up at Silvertongue, barely able to stay still. He chuckled softly and patted her on the head, making her laugh; something about her foal-like innocence just made him want to do that and he couldn't help but indulge.
"Insipid, your display of mimicking the magic of others was impressive, particularly that you could absorb the magic of a technomagic construct. That your touch causes such powerful feedback also intrigues me, and that could prove vital to you. However, your standard magic has room for improvement. In the future, remember that you are a unicorn, and that you can use your magic together with the powers you copy."
Insipid stared up blankly at Silvertongue, and tilted her head. "Uh, does that, like, mean I did good?"
Silvertongue smiled. "Ninety-one points."
"But Daddy," she whined, "I want a higher score, pleeease?"
Silvertongue laughed and ruffled her mane; he didn't know why, but he couldn't help himself. "Ninety-two points then."
"Whoopie!"
He then approached the last of the five, Golden Dawn. She stuck her nose in the air and kept that supremely smug grin on her face. If he wasn't so impressed with her abilities he might have scolded her for putting on airs, but she'd earned the right to be cocky.
"And last but not least, to you, the youngest of my six wonderful daughters," Silvertongue announced. "Golden Dawn, you displayed the most incredible magical power I have witnessed in a long, long while. You utterly destroyed your opponent's entire regiment twice over in record time. I see no need to advise you on your capabilities in combat. A perfect score, one hundred points."
"It would have proven impossible for me to achieve anything less," Dawn said, bowing low but not taking her eyes off of Silvertongue. "Your praise fills me with pride, Father. Thank you."
Jetstream gave Silvertongue a brief look. "Sir? Did you say 'six'? I only see five here."
Blutsauger cleared his throat. "Commander Jetstream, are you suggesting that Herr Silvertongue has made a mistake? That he does not know how to count? You must have misheard him."
"Oh come off it, doc, enough with the brown-nosing," Jetstream huffed. "I might not be some super genius genetic engineer or whatever the hell it is you do, but I have perfectly functional eyes and ears, and I know how to count, thank you very much."
Silvertongue paused, then nodded, a slight grin on his face. "You are correct, Jetstream, there is indeed a sixth mare. I did have you here to test all of their abilities, of course, because I needed somepony with your particular skill set, as well as other factors, such as your familiarity with others on my staff."
That confused the poor commander. "Sir?"
"Only five of these six tests were designed with combat in mind, as the other's abilities do not have practical combat applications that required such a trial." Silvertongue turned to Blutsauger. "I believe this charade has gone on long enough, Doctor Blutsauger. Go on. Show him."
Blutsauger hesitated, then nodded. Silvertongue watched Jetstream's jaw drop as Blutsauger's body shifted with a white glow from a lanky, white-coated unicorn stallion into a beautiful blue-coated earth pony mare with a dark red mane; the lab coat disappeared as well, replaced by the same jumpsuit the other mares were wearing, so that her cutie mark—a trio of oranges—was clear to see.
Jetstream balked. "What."
"Bonjour, Commander," the mare said with her distinct Romantique accent, giving the pegasus a slight nod and a smile. She offered her hoof for him to shake. "A pleasure to meet you for real, non? Je m'appelle Curaçao."
Jetstream just stared at her a moment, then cautiously took her hoof and shook, weakly. "I am so confused right now," he muttered.
"Curaçao possesses the power of Chameleomancy," Silvertongue explained as he took the datapad that Curaçao had been holding. "It is the ability to change one's physical form. To test her ability, I had her study Doctor Blutsauger so that she may take upon his guise during these proceedings and imitate him to the best of her ability. The fact that you didn't notice the difference proves she filled her role perfectly. Almost.
"However," he continued, turning to Curaçao, "I did notice a few disparities: a brief flash of concern during Red Velvet's test when she was struck, and the lack of Blutsauger's typical lascivious tendencies in regards to mares, particularly attractive ones like your sisters. Jetstream did not notice for he is not as well-acquainted with Blutsauger, but somepony else might have."
Curaçao nodded, but did not look ashamed. "Oui, Papa, I will do better in the future."
"I take some of the blame myself, of course; you had very little time to observe and evaluate the doctor's personality. Still, a commendable display of your capabilities. Ninety-two points."
Insipid gasped. Loudly. "Oh. My. Stars. Curie! We got the same score! We're like twins!"
Curaçao just rolled her eyes as she took her place in the time next to Havoc; she'd been the first official test, after all. "Oui, ma sœur, we are like twins. C'est merveilleux."
Silvertongue smiled and stepped away from the line, then turned and addressed the mares all as one. "My daughters. You six are most precious to me, more than anything I possess in this world." His words caused them all to smile brightly, even though the words weren't precisely true; they didn't know that, of course. "It pains me that we cannot simply relax and be a family just yet, but I have an important task for all of you, one that only you can accomplish."
He pushed a button on his datapad, which emitted a green light straight up and displayed a holographic projection of six mares: Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, Fluttershy, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Rainbow Dash.
"These six mares are in desperate need of help, and I wish to offer it to them," he explained, gesturing towards the holograms. "However, they have undergone some terrible experiences as of late and so they may be wary to accept help from strangers quickly. Your mission is to find them and aid them however you can. Let them know that you can be trusted. Then, when the time is right, they will gladly accept my help when I offer it at a later time."
"Okay, so, we're gonna go out and meet these chicks, and we're gonna get all buddy-buddy with 'em?" Havoc asked, scratching her head. "I mean… why? What's so special about them?"
"Do not dispute our father's agenda, Havoc," Dawn said with a sneer. "If he deems these mares to be of consequence, then they certainly must be. He would not squander our talents on mediocrity." She briefly turned to Silvertongue. "Forgive her, Father. She is an imbecile."
"Hey!"
"I assure you, Havoc, these mares are quite special indeed," Silvertongue said with a grin, "but I cannot reveal to you why just yet. You will learn it as you go along and make connections with them, forming bonds of camaraderie. Telling you now would only color your viewpoints, spoil your appetites for genuine friendship, and potentially alert them that you know more than you should. They would not trust you, and trust is of the utmost importance."
He pulled six envelopes from his uniform pocket and passed them to each of the mares; each was labeled with their names. "Inside those envelopes you will find some scant details on your assigned 'target', for lack of a better word, as well as details on efforts I have put in place to aid you in your missions. They are all tailored to your specific talents and skill sets.
"I believe it has already been discussed, but Dawn has been chosen as your team leader," he continued, gesturing towards Dawn; the proud smile on her face could light up a room. "If any troubles occur in the course of your mission, defer to her judgement on how to proceed; failing that, Dawn has nominated Curaçao as her second, should something occur where Dawn is unavailable. Is that clear?"
"So… we're not gonna get to talk to you?" Velvet asked, anxiously tapping her hooves together.
Silvertongue gave her a small smile. "Outside of mission reports, not much, at least not until the mission is done. I have my own work to do in regards to all of this, so regrettably there will be few moments where I am available to spend time with any of you. Fret not, my dear, for once we have all finished our tasks, we will have a truly grand celebration together."
That seemed to satisfy Velvet, who grinned and nodded rapidly. "Yeah! That sounds great!"
"For now, though, why don't you all review your assignments and discuss amongst yourselves a few particulars. The mission is now in your hooves, and I trust you all to make me proud."
He watched them open their envelopes and talk amongst themselves about their assignments, feeling a little swell of pride as he did so, like a true father watching his daughters aspire to bigger and better things.
He'd been surprised when Dawn, the first to awake, had called him "Father", mostly because that wasn't the association he'd expected to manifest in them, but when the others followed suit, he could not rightly deny them. After all, he'd made them, given them life. He raised them as well, for what it was worth; he'd built their memories and personalities, defined every aspect of their lives, and helped develop their talents and skills. Did that not constitute fatherhood?
So if that was how they wished to see him, then it was only logical to see them in the same light.
All in all, things were progressing exactly as planned. Now it was just a matter of time before everything fell into place.
Chapter Seven: Consultation
Twilight didn't get a chance to discuss magical theory with anypony else very often. In fact, it was actually quite rare that she got to discuss magic with anypony at all, theory or no. She only ever spoke with Princess Celestia about it and hadn't had a chance to since she left for Ponyville, and that was quite some time ago. And even then the conversations had been rather limited, mostly as part of her coursework.
Okay, so realistically, Twilight never got to discuss magical theory with anypony, ever.
But Winter Glow, despite her at-times odd vernacular—Twilight had never heard anypony with her particular accent before—was giving Twilight exactly what she'd always wanted: an equal. She didn't particularly like using that term, but when only one of her friends was a unicorn in the first place—and Rarity was smart, absolutely, but not when it came to advanced magical theory—Twilight couldn't think of another way to describe the sensation of speaking with somepony that shared that same passion and understanding.
And best of all, Winter seemed particularly knowledgeable on a subject that Twilight was legitimately curious about, and was more than happy to share that knowledge in a polite discourse.
"So, if I'm understanding this correctly," Twilight said as she and Winter strolled down the street on their way towards the CDH building for Twilight's first big day on her new job, "even the tiniest deviation in the balance of these forces—Law and Chaos according to your order—can cause cataclysmic damage?"
"Yup," Winter said without a hint of foreboding or worry. "It's not immediate, mind ya, but that's the general gist of things. That's why your world is fine for now: this Discord bloke’s seal is still keepin' his Chaos contained in whatever prison ya put him in. Summer Rains said somethin' about a statue?"
Twilight hummed and nodded. "The way that Princess Celestia described our ancient times, back when she and Princess Luna first defeated him, certainly sounds as though the world was completely drowned in Chaos. But if that was the case, why didn't this… 'Void' try and swallow the world then?"
"I won't pretend to know your world's history, but that's the important word here: history. Every world has its own… let's call it a 'backstory'. Things that happened in that history might certainly affect events in its present insofar as, say, your world's Discord bein' released in the first place, but that era of the world is typically immune to Void consumption."
"Really? How come?"
Winter seemed to ponder that for a moment, then gave a little shrug. "It's a complicated issue, but the best way I can explain it is that when worlds are created, they come into existence with that backstory already in place. So, while those events 'happened' as far as the world's inhabitants—you and your friends—are concerned, they didn't as far as the Void is concerned. It only affects things after the world came into existence."
Twilight paused. "That… doesn't make a lot of sense. Those events happened but they didn't happen? Are you saying that everything that happened in my world's history is… fake? Or something like that? Forgive me if I say that that sounds insane."
"No no, not at all, but that history holds no relevance to the Void because… well, it just doesn't." Winter shook her head, an apologetic grin on her face. "Even the Chronomancers aren't entirely sure why that is, but let me see if I can ease your mind a little, yeah?"
"Please."
"So, ya understand that there are obviously other worlds out there, right?"
"Obviously," Twilight said with a smirk.
"Well, there are more than just yours and this one, of course."
"Makes sense."
"And they're not always so different as yours is compared to this one, either. I can't tell ya any specific details—Chronomancer protocol and all that—but I can at least tell ya that there are worlds out there exactly like yours, down to the smallest details, except for one little, seemingly insignificant thing."
"Really? So, what makes my world different from this purely hypothetical other alternate world that's almost exactly the same but isn't?"
"I won't claim to know, because that's not my jurisdiction. Summer Rains could tell ya what makes your world different from others because she's your world's Chronomancer. Could be somethin' as small as just two ponies bein' married in one world but not in another."
"There'd be an entirely different world for that?"
"Oh yeah. Entire worlds are made because of reasons that small. But they can also form because of something as big as, say… your Elements of Harmony not existin' at all. Hypothetically, of course."
"Of course," Twilight said, not really wanting to think about such a hypothetical situation as the Elements not even existing. The kind of disasters that could lead to could be catastrophic. Then again—
"But wait, what about this world? It doesn't have Elements of Harmony, does it?"
"No, it does not," Winter continued. "It's history is actually quite a lot different from your own world, and HQ typically doesn't pinpoint the exact details that caused the difference if it's this significant. I can only tell ya what makes your world different from mine, and let's be honest—"
She gestured around them as they walked. She gestured at the tall buildings that rose much higher than the tallest of those in Canterlot and Manehattan; at the crowded streets and dirty skies clogged with more ponies in a city block that lived in all of Ponyville many times over; at the smoggy air that made it unpleasant to breathe when walking about outside and wasn't much better indoors either; and at the fiery orange glow in the sky above that was both foreboding and captivating all the same, like a sunset that had overstayed its welcome.
"—I don't think it'd take a genius to see we'd be here a while if I listed all the differences."
Twilight shook her head and sighed. She wasn't as apprehensive about things now that she knew what had happened, what was happening, and what was being done to rectify the situation, but that didn't mean that she wasn't nervous about the whole thing.
She'd only known Winter for less than a day, and while she trusted the other unicorn and sincerely believed she was going to do everything she could to help, Twilight couldn't stop herself from worrying that this otherworldly adventure of theirs had only just begun.
Three weeks was starting to sound like a long time.
*****
Twilight hadn't had a problem with the outfit she'd chosen for herself back at the police station the other day, and if anything found herself growing rather fond of it, in a way. She'd never be caught dead performing stage magic like Trixie did. Not because it was beneath her or anything like that, but because that sort of magic just wasn't something she considered proper, so to speak. Certainly she knew if she put her mind to it she could absolutely put on a show, but—
That wasn't the point.
What was the point was that she wasn't allowed to wear her normal clothing for work, but had to wear a proper uniform. She was rather surprised to find that the CDH provided one for her, and that she wasn't even being charged for it or anything. Given everything that had happened thus far, she was expecting the worst; she'd already prepared herself to ask Winter if she could borrow some bits to pay for a uniform if need be.
Once she put the uniform on, she felt every bit like a librarian, what with the cable-knit sweater and pleated skirt. It was admittedly a little much, but if this was what she needed to wear, then that's what she was going to wear.
Archimedes had told her when she arrived that, "Ponies of this city have a certain expectation for how others should look in particular professions." He'd then given her the outfit, told her to make herself presentable, and left her to her own devices, which was rather nice of him since that implied he trusted her to do it right. At least that's how Twilight chose to interpret it.
Twilight couldn't decide if the collected-yet-casual, haughty demeanor he exuded was just him putting on airs because that was expected of him, or if that was how he really was.
Regardless, once she'd changed into her uniform and headed back into the library room proper, she met up with Winter at one of the computer stations, where she was patiently waiting for Twilight's arrival.
Twilight knew that the computers could only be unlocked for use by a member of the staff, and that meant her now; she still felt weird about being made responsible for the use and maintenance of a device that she had never used before, but here she was. She'd just have to treat this like any new learning experience.
Winter grinned as Twilight came over, giving her a once-over. "Crikey, look at you, eh? Ya look cute as a button in that getup."
Twilight blushed and pawed at the sweater, which still itched a little since it was new. "Thanks. I'm still coming to grips with having to wear clothes all the time and all that, but I guess if these outfits help me fit in I should try and embrace it, right? 'When in Roam', they say. Or is that just an expression from my world?"
"Well, ya look every bit like a librarian, I'll tell ya that. Why, I bet if ya put your nose up in the air just a little…" Winter demonstrated, sticking her nose in the air with a properly snooty expression on her face. "You'll look like you're just the right amount of up yourself to fit in."
Twilight glanced over towards Archimedes at his desk, where he was busy leering down his nose at a teenage colt, every bit as stuffy as always and with practically the exact expression on his face that Winter demonstrated. She'd only known the stallion for a few hours at best, but she could just tell that he was good at what he did and that his attitude towards others simply had to be brought on because of a lack of appreciation for his work.
She knew that feeling only too well.
"Right," she said, turning back to Winter. She took a small key out of her new sweater's pocket. "Well, let's go ahead and get started, shall we?"
Twilight stuck the key into a little slot on top of the station and turned it, and in an instant the monitor sprung to life and was already prompting for input.
She'd been surprised at how these "computer" devices worked when she'd been first introduced to them the other day, but was starting to grow accustomed to certain aspects of them, even if she didn't quite understand how exactly they worked just yet. Fascinating things, to be sure, but she'd have time to indulge in her curiosity another day, hopefully.
"Right then, let's get crackin', eh?" Winter cracked her neck—Twilight could even hear a few joints pop, which she was sure wasn't healthy—and tapped on the screen to make the keyboard widget appear. "I say we start simple and broad, then just work our way down from there. So, we'll start the search with just 'Nihila'."
She typed that into the input field, then hit the Search button and let the computer do its work. In less than a minute, the database compiled its list and displayed its results: 10,314 Entries Found.
Winter whistled. "That's a lot of things to sort through." She and Twilight glanced at the details of the entries as Winter scrolled down the list, and saw that several of them were quite long, reaching upwards of hundreds of thousands of words per entry. "It'll take us weeks to find anythin' in this mess."
Twilight hummed, then smiled as a thought came to her. "Archimedes taught me a few things about making these searches easier and more refined. A few logistical operators, actually. Since we're only concerned with Nihila herself, or more specifically this 'Warden' of hers, we can narrow the search. Here, watch this."
Twilight typed into the search bar so that it read Nihila AND Warden, then hit the Search button and waited for the database to sort through it. The results weren't quite what Twilight expected: 9,997 Entries Found.
"Well, at least it narrowed out things that were probably less useful, I hope," Winter noted as she looked at the screen. "Well, we're not lookin' for information on Harmonia—I already know enough that if we were goin' that route we wouldn't need a bloody computer for help—so how about we take her out of the equation?"
"Yeah, that might work." Twilight typed in Nihila AND Warden NOT Harmonia, then hit Search again. This time the results were even less promising: 0 Entries Found. "Oh dear."
"Strewth," Winter grumbled, shaking her head. "Makes sense, though. Those two aren't usually discussed without mentionin' the other. That's the nature of counterpart goddesses, eh?"
"I suppose…" Twilight sighed. "Looks to me like we're sorting through all of that other data then, doesn't it? Gosh, that's a lot of reading. I mean, I love reading, but I just can't imagine trying to do it in front of a big screen like this instead of a book. It just feels… wrong."
"How so?"
"Well I mean, where's the texture of the paper on your hooves? Where the sound of pages rustling as you turn through them? Not to mention that I'd have to sit in this chair for hours and hours to go through all this material, rather than being able to lounge in bed or on the couch, or read while I'm walking about or while I'm doing other things."
Winter chuckled. "Y'know, I figured ya for a bibliophile, but I didn't think ya had it this bad." She put her hoof on Twilight's shoulder. "If it's any consolation, mate, ya don't have to do all the research here."
Twilight paused, then brightened. "Oh! Right! You can check out materials just like at any library! I forgot all about that, what with the difference in material. I kept thinking that there was no way we would be allowed to carry this computer out of here." She cleared her throat. "Let's see…"
She fished a little device out of her sweater pocket and inserted it into the computer where she'd been instructed to by Archimedes; he'd called the device a "drive" and that it could store incredible amounts of data despite only being the size of a stick of gum, which could then be transferred over to other devices for later reading. And these drives were keyed specifically to the CDH, so only those with clearance—such as herself—could insert, remove, or modify them until they were checked out properly.
She tapped a few buttons on the screen, particularly a big button labeled Download, and waited as the computer worked its magic—or whatever it was that made it work—to transfer a copy of all of the data onto the drive. The screen displayed a waiting time to download the entire collection of data before confirming anything, though: 3 hours, 23 minutes.
"Of course the download speeds are still shit house," Winter scoffed. "Well, not like I had anything else to do today, eh?"
"I'm still fascinated by how these little things work," Twilight said, gesturing at the drive. "The only thing about it that makes any sense is that it's meant for housing data, and that every document or book takes up a certain amount. And it can hold multiple books all at once? Like a miniature library of its own?"
"Oh, more than that, mate. The drives they make these days are capable of storing entire libraries worth of books. A book takes up, let's say… one piece of data, eh? The number's bigger than that, but for argument's sake, let's say one. That data is called a 'byte'. That little drive there can store an entire terabyte worth of information."
Twilight blinked, stunned. "A trillion books? All on this one little thing?"
"Yup. And that's just the cheapo stuff the CDH uses for loaners; the more expensive drives can hold a full petabyte, and there are some high-end ones that go up to an exabyte."
"That's… oh wow…"
Twilight's eyes glazed over as she thought about the possibility of holding such a sheer volume of knowledge in one hoof. She had to take care to keep breathing properly; even if a single document or book took up one million of these so-called "bytes", there was enough room in that little stick to hold entire libraries worth of information and still have room left over. She watered at the mouth just a little at the thought of having access to it all.
She shook herself out of it, though. "Well, I'll get started on the forms needed to check this drive out for you," she said with a grin. "Then we can research at our own pace at home, right?"
Winter nodded. "And we can still do plenty of reading here whenever we need to. Who knows, we might need to search for somethin' completely different if this database doesn't have anythin' useful right off the bat."
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Why wouldn't it have anything useful? Nihila's a goddess, right? There's sure to be lots of information on her in the database."
"Folks up here in the north don't really pay much heed to religion and all that shit, yeah? Nopony up here worships Nihila or prays to her or anythin', or as far as I know even acknowledges her existence in their daily lives. Might not even ‘believe’ in her."
"But… she is real, right?"
"Oh, absolutely, just as real as Harmonia is… but the northern folk don't really believe in her either. They mostly think the two are just creations of the southern ponies to guide their morals. Follow Harmonia's example, shun Nihila's, that sort of thing."
Twilight found that a little hard to parse through. She tried to imagine what it would be like in her own world if ponies didn't "believe" that Princess Celestia raised the sun every morning and Princess Luna raised the moon every night. Or would it be more comparable to all those ponies over the years that didn't "believe" in the tale of Nightmare Moon? No, scratch that, she had a more relatable story.
"I suppose it makes a little bit of sense," Twilight said. "If ponies can't see something with their own eyes, sometimes they have a tough time believing that it's real. I mean, in our world's history, nopony believed that the wendigos were real until they practically forced the three ancient tribes to unite as one. We still tell the story every year so that nopony forgets it and the wendigos return."
"Yeah, kind of the same deal, but it's a bit more complicated than that, since the only pony that ever actually speaks with Harmonia directly is her Warden," Winter said. "The southern Warden, from my understandin', is a public figure. That's our problem. The best I can tell is that Nihila's Warden keeps to themselves like some kind of hermit."
"Are you sure she even has a Warden?" Twilight asked. "What if she doesn't need one?"
"She and Harmonia do need them, actually. They can't interact with the physical world except through their Wardens carrying out their commands. Otherwise, they can only interact with ponies in their dreams, and those come across more often as rather vague visions than direct conversations. Or so the stories say."
"Well, whoever this Warden is, I hope they're decent enough to at least hear us out. We're banking on a lot here, trying to find somepony that clearly doesn't want to be found."
"I'll get started on lookin' through some of these documents now," Winter said, turning back to the computer screen. "I don't think it'd be a good idea for ya to do it yourself."
"What? Why not?" Twilight asked. "I'd be a big help—"
Winter gestured out into the library. "Don't forget, you've got a job to do here, eh? I have no doubt you'll be a big help in narrowin' things down, Twilight, but save it for when ya get off work." She set a hoof on Twilight's shoulder. "Trust me, I can handle readin' a few documents."
Twilight paused, then gave a little smile and nodded. "Alright, you make a fair point. Let me know if you need any help though, okay? You're still a library patron, and it's my job to be of assistance to you," she added with a wink.
With that, Twilight turned from the computer and headed out into the rest of the library to see if she could be of help to anypony else.
Over the course of a couple of hours, she learned that ponies used the library for all sorts of purposes, though there were very few that used it for the purposes she felt were appropriate; then again, since this library also kept record of all public data made available—from addresses to photographs, tax records to arrest warrants—she admitted that this was really less of a library as it was a depository, and ponies were legally allowed to use whatever information was available however they wanted.
Still, it felt a little awkward to help the few library patrons she met with what they needed help with.
One, a scrawny stallion that barely looked like he was out of high school, wanted all sorts of records on an older mare that, from what Twilight could tell, was a teacher at his former school. She didn't want to guess why he was searching for this information—her address in particular—but something told Twilight it wasn't for a good reason; it wasn't her place to question it—Archimedes had made that clear—but it still felt off-putting doing it.
Another, a mare who was clearly weeks away from delivering a foal, was looking into financial records and other information regarding an older stallion, though Twilight couldn't tell what the connection was; they didn't look related or anything. Given how the mare was looking at the information with a certain sadistic glimmer in her eyes, Twilight was again sure that the purpose of the search wasn't anything pleasant.
There was a couple looking into the reviews of certain hotels in the area they planned on renting a room at—they were the only ponies being upfront with their intentions. Still, there was something suspicious about the couple that she couldn't put a hoof on, but it wasn't her place to judge, really. They seemed friendly enough; too friendly, really, enough that Twilight had to avert her gaze more than once.
A young filly and her father needed some information on some chemicals for a science fair experiment. At first Twilight was happy to help, but then she saw that the chemicals being searched for weren't appropriate for a filly that age to be handling; in fact, given her own knowledge of chemistry, she was certain that these particular chemicals could just easily be combined into an explosive if they were handled improperly. Plus, the filly looked not at all interested in the project, while the father definitely did. Very odd.
An older mare wanted some information on her late husband's medical records, which she was legally entitled to, of course, but also on a complete stranger, which she was not; Twilight had tried to explain that she didn't have that kind of clearance, and it took an intervention from Archimedes to keep the older mare from biting Twilight's head off during her outburst, and in a library no less! Did some ponies just not care about respecting the rules of establishments they visited?
It wasn't until about an hour or so before lunch that Twilight got to deal with a patron that seemed to not only be on the level, but was using the library for legitimate scholarly pursuits.
The mare approached Twilight's desk—for Twilight had been given a rather small desk near the west computer area, as she was apparently in charge of that whole section—with a confident gait, her nose just slightly up. She had a rich, golden brown coat and a long cream-colored mane that curled at the sides to frame her face, and wore a snappy wine red dress suit and pale yellow bowtie that made her look both professional and presentable at the same time.
"Hello there!" Twilight greeted, keeping her pep up despite a long slog through a slew of less-than-pleasant patrons. "Welcome to the Central Database Hub. How can I help you?"
"I require the use of one of your computer stations for research purposes," the mare said, glancing off just behind Twilight and gesturing towards the stations with a tilt of her head. "That would be your responsibility, would it not, Miss… Sparkle?"
Twilight froze for a brief instant. The past two days had been enough of a harrowing experience that she was nearly always on edge, and it had been concerning enough when Winter Glow had come to her and her friends with knowledge that she shouldn't have had, but at least Winter's story made sense. Yes, her name was on public record according to Flathoof, but why would somepony look that up?
"H-how did you know my name?" Twilight gulped.
The other mare pointed absently with her hoof at Twilight's chest. "Your nametag?"
Twilight glanced down and noticed the bright nametag attached to her sweater pocket; she'd completely forgotten it was even there, since nopony had even acknowledged it yet today and it hadn't been bothering her, as in, it was quite comfortable to wear.
"Oh. Right. My nametag. Sorry, first day jitters, forgot all about it," Twilight chuckled. "Right, so, how can I be of assistance?" she asked as she led the mare over towards the nearest available computer station and inserted her key to start it up.
"I am researching the history of New Pandemonium City," the mare said as she took a seat. "Specifically a chronicle of events leading up to the city's initial construction procedures, the formation process regarding the city's ruling government body, and assorted elements revolving around the city's current social status quo in relation or contrast to the socio-economic conditions in centuries past."
Twilight blinked; this mare was either incredibly smart to be able to use all of that admittedly complicated vocabulary correctly, or another one of the many, many ponies out there that just liked to use ten-bit words to sound like they were incredibly smart. Twilight could admit she used more complex words at times, but she didn't pepper entire sentences with them.
But she could.
She cleared her throat. "So, the intention of your sojourn to this repository is to illuminate specific minutiae in regards to circumstances which resulted in the city's development both architectural and political, as well as a juxtaposition between both past and present civil structures?"
"Indubitably," the other mare replied.
Twilight and the other mare locked eyes for half a moment, and for that brief period Twilight felt an odd sense of familiarity, almost like looking in a mirror; this other mare's eye color was exactly the same as her own, down to a tiny imperfection Twilight had in her right pupil that nopony else really noticed. It was almost uncanny.
But then Twilight just smiled and nodded, not wanting to be caught staring. "Well, I'd be happy to help however I can, Miss…?"
"Dawn," the other mare said, offering her hoof, which Twilight took. "Golden Dawn, in full. A pleasure to meet your acquaintance."
"Likewise. So, let's see what we can find in regards to your little research project, hmm?"
Twilight spent the next thirty or so minutes helping Golden Dawn narrow down her search parameters several times—the city's history was surprisingly vast, with over 500,000 entries to sort through with just a broad search—and over that period she got a good chance to know this other mare, who Twilight felt an almost immediate connection with; just as it wasn't often that she got to discuss magical theory with anypony, it wasn't often that she met somepony that had a passion for learning.
"So, what's this project of yours for, anyhow?" Twilight asked. "Considering the amount of detail you're looking into and the specifics of the search, this isn't just some random essay for your college history class. A thesis, maybe?"
The other mare looked about the same age as Twilight, if she were to hazard a guess, so she assumed college was the most likely educational level.
Dawn grinned as she sorted through another few documents to drop into the download bin. "Nothing quite so pedestrian. My intention is to formulate this dissertation for entry into a scholastic journal, or, failing that, to serve as a foundation for a lecture."
"Wow, a scholastic journal, huh?" Twilight said, frankly impressed.
She'd always wanted to write a dissertation for one of the journals back home, but she'd been so focused on her friendship reports and dealing with threats like Discord and Queen Chrysalis that she didn't feel she had the time.
"Which one, if I might ask? I'd love to read it when you're finished."
Dawn paused for a brief moment, then smiled and shrugged. "If I may be forthright with you, I have yet to choose which of the city's journals would provide a satisfactory fit. Rest assured, once I do, I will be certain to inform you of it."
"That sounds great!"
"So, you share my enthusiasm for historical inquiry, hmm? Might I inquire as to why? So few in this city possess any sort of appreciation for the past."
"Well, I'm not originally from here," Twilight said—she and her friends were still supposed to be using the cover story they'd come up with, and Winter had helped provide them with more than enough details to fill out the holes it had. "I'm from the southern continent, from a little village called Ponyville."
Dawn raised an eyebrow. "Ponyville? That name seems rather… 'up the nose'? I believe that is the expression?"
"On the nose, actually."
"Yes, of course. On the nose," Dawn said with a light laugh.
Twilight wrinkled her brow. "You're not the first pony around here to say that about Ponyville, actually. Is the name really that odd?"
"It does possess a certain fairy tale quality to it." Dawn paused, then smiled politely. "Not to insinuate anything that might be construed as disrespectful. Northern locales are not known for their own inventive nomenclature, either, but for a more utilitarian purpose. Consider this city's districts, named either in reference to their cardinal directions from the city center, or, for the Inner Districts, the dialects utilized by the majority of their population."
Twilight smiled back. "I suppose when you put it that way, I shouldn't feel so bad if Ponyville's name is kind of 'on the nose', huh?"
"Not at all.”
“Say, maybe you would know the answer to this: why are the Mid Districts named regarding the cardinal directions? The center of the city is supposedly on the planet’s north pole, right? Wouldn't they all be technically south?"
"Correct, but the planet possesses a minor tilt to its axis. Were you positioned precisely in the city’s center with a compass in hoof, Mid-North would be indicated to your magnetic north, and so on."
"Ah. That explains a lot, actu—"
A cough behind Twilight nearly made her jump. She turned to find herself face-to-face with Chief Librarian Archimedes.
"Oh! Ch-chief, hi," Twilight said, not sure if she should be nervous or not. "Is something wrong?"
Archimedes stared down his nose at her. "Indeed there is, Miss Sparkle. Something is very wrong. Very wrong indeed."
Twilight gulped. "Oh? Um… wh-what is it?"
He gestured towards the far wall. "If you could, Miss Sparkle, tell me what time it is?"
Twilight glanced at the wall, at the clock there actually, and saw that it was— "Um… twelve-oh-two?"
"Indeed. Two minutes past noon. And when, Miss Sparkle, are you supposed to take your allotted thirty-minute lunch break?"
"At… noon?"
"At noon, precisely. Precisely at noon, in fact. You are late for your own lunch break, Miss Sparkle, and that reflects poorly on your superior, who is responsible for ensuring that those beneath him are properly organized and scheduled. Now, who is your superior, Miss Sparkle?"
"You are, sir?"
"I am, that is correct. So, let us sum up." Archimedes adjusted his glasses. "You are currently… three minutes late for your lunch break, which you were supposed to take precisely at noon, and such an oversight reflects poorly on me in the eyes of the city's employment board for allowing an employee—a new employee—to mismanage their schedule during work hours. Does that sound correct?"
"Y-yes?
"So, Miss Sparkle, what are you going to do to rectify this gross oversight?"
"I'm… going to take my lunch break?"
"You're going to take your lunch break, very good. Hop to it."
And with that, he walked off to go back to "helping" another patron with their own research project, whatever that might have been.
Twilight wasn't sure if she should feel glad that her new employer cared enough to ensure that she took proper breaks—or if he cared about her at all, and not just his own skin in case this got him into legal trouble—or if she should be upset because of his admittedly abrasive attitude. The former seemed more likely; if the ponies of this city were generally as heartless as Flathoof and Lockwood indicated at times, surely Archimedes could've just let her forget to take a break and fudge the time cards later, right?
With a sigh, she turned back to Dawn and gave her a weak smile, her nerves still a little rattled. "W-well, you heard my boss, I'm on break. I'd be happy to help you more with your project when I get back, if you need it."
Dawn rose from her seat, taking the now-filled data drive out of the computer and putting it in her pocket. "Actually, Miss Sparkle—"
"You can just call me Twilight, if you'd like."
That made Dawn smile a little. "Actually, Twilight, I was considering taking a respite from my research for a period as well. Would you mind if I joined you?" She gestured over towards the coffee shop in the corner of the library. "If I am not mistaken, I believe we can purchase food and beverages right here at the CDH. Perhaps we can continue our discussions?"
Twilight smiled back, moving to lock the computer station now that it was no longer in use. "Sure, that sounds great. Would you mind if a friend of mine joined us? I'm helping her with a research project, too, and was going to invite her to join me for some coffee."
"I would not object to more company."
"Great! The more the merrier, they always say."
*****
Twilight knew it would take a while to get used to the way New Pandemonium City worked. The commute from home to work was completely alien to her, what with her first real job being Ponyville's librarian, and she lived on the library's second floor; apparently, though, commutes like hers were considered completely normal, and in fact hers was considered easy, despite having to walk twenty blocks from her building to the CDH on top of descending all those darned stairs.
That was small potatoes compared to getting used to the food and drink offerings in the city. The Dolor brand of synthetic foods was the most common product available and constituted of the daily diet of over eighty percent of the city's populace; the Inner Districts tended to get actual food products shipped from the southern continent and could afford it, and those in the Mid Districts could only afford to indulge as a special treat every now and then.
But if Twilight had to drink this "coffee" that the CDH coffee shop served, and had to do it every day for the next three or so weeks, she was probably going to snap sooner rather than later.
Everypony had their own "thing", so to speak, their own favorite food or drink or activity that brought them real enjoyment, not counting their careers or duties or hobbies. Take Rarity, for example: her "thing" was the spa. She loved indulging herself in a day at the spa and more than that loved sharing the experience with others, and Fluttershy was the most common recipient of that generosity.
Twilight of course loved books and learning, everypony knew that, but that was also her job, no matter how passionate she was about it. She was a student of magic first and a small-town librarian after that, and so studying, reading, and writing were just things she did all the time, and she enjoyed doing them.
But the one thing Twilight loved, the thing that was her "thing" and that she couldn't go without, was a good cup of coffee. And this… stuff that the CDH coffee shop served was not coffee. There were so many other things she wanted to call it, some of which were definitely not appropriate for public areas—Winter might be comfortable swearing in public, but Twilight wasn't—but none of those words were "coffee".
Applejack's description of the stuff had been a gross understatement, ironically enough, especially since Applejack's "thing" was also coffee as far as Twilight could tell; they'd shared many a good cup together in the early mornings where they sometimes met up for breakfast, and discussed at length about certain blends they liked.
"So, enjoyin' your coffee?" Winter asked, a light hint of a smile on her face as she watched Twilight take a painful sip.
Twilight swallowed the offensive liquid and gave Winter a look that she hoped would answer the question without resorting to words.
"You'll get used to it, mate," Winter chuckled, patting Twilight on the back. "Hey, if you're desperate, ask that landlord of yours where he gets the blend he uses, then ya can just bring a thermos with ya to work. Real piece of piss, that. I'm sure he'd even give ya some if ya asked."
"I don't exactly want to ask him for yet another freebie, but I'll find out the brand, sure. The first paycheck I get is going towards a big bag of the best coffee I can afford." Twilight took another painful sip. "If I even survive that long."
"If it's that bad, ya can always add a bit of somethin' to it, eh?"
"Oh no, I take my coffee black," Twilight said with a grin. "It's a crime to add cream or sugar to it, as far as I'm concerned."
"Cream and sugar? What are ya, some sort of ankle biter? Piss on that." Winter pulled a little flask out her sweater pocket. "When I've got no choice but drinkin' this awful shit, I like to add a bit of the ol' gin to it, eh?" To demonstrate, she poured a small amount of liquid into her cup, stirred it around, and took a long sip. "Ah! Now it ain't so bad."
Twilight balked at the display. "Winter, it's only just past noon. A little early to be drinking, isn't it?"
"Huh? Nah, this ain't even enough to count as a proper drink. Though now that ya mention it, I could go for a coldie." She turned to Dawn, who looked about as put out as Twilight did. "What about you, eh? Ya want a bit of kick in your coffee there?
Dawn shook her head; Twilight noticed she'd barely touched her coffee any more than she herself had, even with three whole packets of that non-dairy "creamer" she'd used. "I must decline your offer, Miss Glow. As unappetizing as this… swill is, I do not find it proper to become inebriated. Regardless of the time."
"Bunch of lightweights you two are if ya think a teaspoon of gin'll 'inebriate' ya," Winter scoffed.
"So!" Twilight blurted, hoping to turn the topic away from day-drinking. "Did you find anything useful while I was gone, Winter?"
Winter shrugged. "Can't say that I did yet, no. There's a lot to sort through, and a lot of what I've looked through so far is basically just abridged history lessons about the southern pony religion, even a couple on how Harmonia and Nihila fit into the zebra pantheon."
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "The zebra pantheon?"
"Yeah. The short and simple version is that the zebras worship Harmonia and Nihila too, as well as a bunch of other gods and goddesses that only zebras pay any heed to. If any of them are real, though, there's no tangible evidence of it. I think the 'blessings' they get are just straightforward alchemy and runic magic."
"What manner of research project are you endeavoring upon, Miss Glow?" Dawn asked. "An essay on the southern religions?"
"Not exactly, mostly just one particular aspect of it. Nihila, specifically. And it's more of a personal project, a curiosity, if you will," Winter responded with a tight-lipped smile; Twilight knew it was unwise to go further than that. "You said that ya got a little research project of your own? A history paper or something like that?"
Dawn nodded. "A dissertation on the origin of New Pandemonium City and its subsequent growth and development, to be brief."
"Found out anythin' interestin'?"
"Well, from what information I am now personally acquainted with, I know that the city's foundation was formed around the central structure of Pandora Tower, for instance."
Winter raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? That place is a mystery to almost everypony in the city. Nopony goes in, nopony goes out. You're sayin' that was the first thing in the city ever built?"
"According to the data that I have collected, that is correct."
"What's so mysterious about this tower?" Twilight asked, sipping her counterfeit coffee.
"Like I said, there's nopony that's ever gone in there and come out before," Winter restated. "Nopony knows what goes on in there, if anypony even works or lives there, or what its purpose is, but it's been there as long as anypony can remember. Apparently as long as the city itself," she added with a nod at Dawn.
"Not unlike a mysterious castle deep in the forest that potentially holds all sorts of ancient magical lore and secrets," Twilight mused, stroking her chin. When the other two mares gave her a look, she dropped her hoof. "What? It's a pretty classical fantasy location, even if this city isn't exactly fantastical in nature."
"Well anyway, I hope you're doin' better with your own project than I am, Miss Dawn," Winter said. "I've got a lot of work ahead of me if I'm gonna find what I'm lookin' for in all the data I've got to sort through. And only two reliable pairs of eyes to look through it, at that."
Dawn glanced between Winter and Twilight. "You are participating in this endeavor together, then?"
"Yeah, I agreed to help her out with it," Twilight said with a grin. "I've got a pretty big interest in this 'Nihila' myself, what with being from the southern continent and all. We don't hear much about Nihila. It's all, 'Harmonia this' and 'Harmonia that'." She coughed into her hoof. "Ahem. N-not to say I don't appreciate and love Harmonia and everything. Because I do. Because I'm from the south."
"Yes, you have made that perfectly evident." Dawn hummed, tapping her chin. "Would you be willing to accept additional assistance in this project of yours?"
Twilight blinked. "Huh?"
"Forgive me, allow my intent to be made more transparent: I am offering my assistance if you require it in this burdensome undertaking."
"You'd help us? Just like that? B-but, what about your dissertation?"
Dawn grinned. "I have already collected enough data to compile by dissertation within the next few days, at which point my only driving task would be to have it published, which I acknowledge may not be an expeditious process by any means. While I await a response from the myriad publishers of these scholarly journals, I would find myself remiss to not occupy my time and energy elsewise."
"And you want to use that free time of yours to help us with researchin' Nihila?" Winter asked, eyebrow raised. "Why?"
"If my obvious fascination with chronicles of the past has escaped you, then you have not been attentive in this conversation. I find the thought of researching a southern goddess that is not acknowledged in the north or the south to be quite intriguing. There is surely some historical reason for it."
Twilight nodded quickly. "We'd be happy to have your help, Dawn. Wouldn't we, Winter?" she asked, looking at Winter knowingly.
Winter paused, just staring at Dawn, then gave a short nod. "Yeah, alright, an extra pair of eyes can't hurt. Ya seem like you're a smart mare, Miss Dawn, so I imagine you'd probably be good at it, and frankly I can use all the help I can get. I'll be here at the CDH every day, so you'll know where to find me."
"Wonderful. This should prove to be a most illuminating experience," Dawn said with a smile. "You simply could not comprehend the desire I have to lose myself in research. I find there are so few individuals that share a passion for such things, and even fewer that appreciate it."
Twilight nodded; Dawn was truly a kindred soul. "I know, right? I have a hard enough time getting my friends to read much in the first place, let alone enjoy it. One of my best friends didn't even consider reading until she practically had it forced on her while she was in the hospital. I was convinced she was illiterate at first."
"Your pain is palpable," Dawn said, gently tapping her cup to Twilight's.
Twilight glanced at the clock on the wall, which was just approaching twelve-thirty; her lunch break would be over soon. "Well, I'd better get back to work. If either of you need any help, I'll be around," she said as she rose from the table.
Dawn rose from the table as well. "It was quite enjoyable to converse with you, Twilight. I must depart as well, as a matter of fact. I have collected all of the data that I required for my project and find it prudent to begin preparing my dissertation immediately." She nodded to Winter. "Miss Glow, a pleasure."
"You too, Miss Dawn," Winter said, nodding back.
With that, Dawn left the coffee shop and headed out of the building entirely.
"She's really nice," Twilight said. "I'm starting to think that my friends and I are getting amazingly lucky, meeting all these helpful ponies, especially considering Flathoof and Lockwood gave me the impression they're really rare in this city."
Winter leaned back in her chair and took another sip from her cup. "They're righter than ya think, though. I'm not gonna tell ya not to trust folks, Twilight, but I will tell ya to be very careful with who ya trust, eh? Not everypony is what they seem to be."
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Huh? Don't you trust her?"
Winter took another sip. "Let's just say that I'm not as quick to trust just anypony as you seem to me. Part of the job, ya understand. She seems like a nice sheila, I'll give ya that, and I'm willin' to give her a chance to prove she's on the level, but it pays to have an eye open for suspicious behavior. And don't think I'm just pickin' on her because we just met her."
"I was actually about to suggest that," Twilight said with a huff.
"Well, don't. I'll be honest with ya, I don't really trust Captain Flathoof or Mister Lockwood, either. Not yet. There are enough corrupt cops in this city that I'll believe Flathoof is an honest, decent bloke when I see it, and don't think for a minute that I didn't put a magical charm on my door last night in Lockwood's apartment."
Twilight frowned. "They've been really helpful to us so far, though. You're even relying on them yourself to help us get through all this."
Winter held up her hoof. "I didn't say I distrust them, mate, only that I'm not ready to accept that they're on the level until things really start pullin' through. I'll give them a chance all the same, but I want to make it crystal clear, that if I have even the slightest inklin' that they're up to no good, I'll ice them and get you and your friends to safety. That's my job."
Twilight gulped; she'd seen enough movies and read enough books to know what "ice them" was a metaphor for, and found it a little uncomfortable that Winter would treat the concept so casually. She supposed she should be grateful that this other mare was willing to do something so unthinkable to protect her and her friends, but it was still a disconcerting thought.
"I suppose I can appreciate that, then," she said with some hesitation. "As long as you're giving them a fair chance, okay? And as long as we can avoid… 'icing' anypony."
Winter nodded, then waved her hoof. "Go on, Twilight, your break's endin' in less than a minute."
Twilight glanced at the clock, saw that that was true, then nodded back to Winter and ran off to clock back in.
Despite everything that Winter had said, though, Twilight was willing to give these new ponies the benefit of the doubt until given reason to do otherwise. Flathoof and Lockwood seemed completely honest and decent thus far, so she had no reason to doubt their intentions or distrust them, even if Lockwood had admitted to being associated with some unscrupulous types; no, perhaps because he'd admitted it, because that, too, was proof that he was willing to be honest with her and her friends.
Golden Dawn might be worth watching, sure, since they'd only just met and known each other for about an hour or so, but Twilight couldn't exactly judge on that account too harshly. After all, she'd met her best friends in the whole world all on the same day and only known them for a very short time before she came to trust them and their decisions and judgements; she'd even trusted Applejack with her life in less than a day's time.
Regardless of the differences between this world and hers, she was willing to give anypony she met a fair chance to prove themselves a decent pony, or at the very least to make up for a bad first impression.
After all, what would the point be in all those Friendship Reports if she wasn't willing to try to make new friends and apply the lessons she'd learned over the years?
Chapter Eight: Construction
Applejack woke up earlier than the rest of her friends did that morning, a good hour or so before even Twilight did. This meant that she didn't get to sit down for breakfast with the others, or even have a chance to really say anything to anypony; she was used to rising early and quietly so as not to disturb anypony that might be sleeping. She figured she'd let her friends get their rest for their own business today, since this was the first "real" day here in the city now that they knew they were stuck for a while.
Her morning routine was also quick and quiet, even if it was a little different from what she was used to on the farm. She had to remember to put on some clothes besides her hat, for one thing. This new outfit of hers fit well enough and was pretty comfortable, but she still felt weird wearing it all the time; she was just so used to walking about with nothing more than the hat on her head unless it was for a special occasion. She still had no idea why clothes were required; it wasn't like a shirt alone covered any private bits or anything.
Breakfast didn't consist of a couple cups of coffee and a hearty meal, either, just one of those little Dolor packets that their kitchen was now filled with so that the group would have food; Lockwood insisted on giving them a healthy supply to start with and claimed it was no big deal.
There were nine different colors, apparently, though Lockwood had only provided the "main" six: Red, Blue, Yellow, Green, Orange, Purple; White and Black were expensive, and Brown was, in his words, "utter crap" and not worth getting. Each one tasted different based on how they were prepared and stored, or at least that was how Applejack understood it. The packet of Dolor Orange she'd grabbed out of a cabinet tasted like slightly-old oranges with a little too much pulp.
After breakfast, she brushed her teeth, combed and tied up her mane and tail, and made sure that she looked her best. She was going to be meeting Flathoof's father pretty soon in the hopes of getting a job, and probably other ponies too, and even Applejack knew that first impressions were everything. She'd make Rarity proud, in a way.
Once she felt she was ready, she quietly headed out the door of the apartment and made her way down the many, many stairs to the complex's ground floor.
From there, it was a matter of following Flathoof's detailed instructions. There was what he'd called a "Bus Stop" just across the street from the apartment building, and there would be a bus—whatever that was—arriving soon, according to what time it had been when she'd left the apartment. There were several other ponies waiting there—no pegasi, she noticed—and as such both of the benches were already taken, so Applejack just stood and waited like so many others were.
It had been Lockwood who'd said that if there was one thing in the city that could be counted on, it was how utterly random everything was in whether it was run properly or not, and he had been quite clear about how the city's various modes of public transportation operated. That is, how absolutely, positively, perfectly they operated. So while Applejack was only a little surprised that the bus arrived precisely on-time to the absolute second, she supposed that was just one more thing to consider weird about the city. How some things could be so inconvenient but others so perfect was just confusing.
The bus itself was another weird thing to come to terms with. Applejack had been on a train before, naturally, and that was the best way she could describe what this vehicle was: a big train car that somehow moved without any tracks beneath it or anything pulling or pushing it along. She understood the basics of the steam engines that made a train work, but this bus either had a teeny-tiny steam engine somewhere or it ran on what could only be magic.
The vehicle was tall, too, essentially two train cars on top of one another, and Applejack could see through the windows that there were ponies on three levels worth of seats. A single earth pony sat in a compartment at the front of the bus operating what looked like a big wheel, a number of levers at its side. The doors on the side of the bus opened up and dozens of ponies disembarked, while simultaneously everypony at the bus stop grabbed their things and moved towards the designated entrance.
Applejack managed to make herself sixth in line, far enough ahead that she'd be able to get a good seat, hopefully—Flathoof had said that getting a good, clean seat was crucial—but far enough behind that she could watch the process of entering so that it didn't look like this was her first time. Flathoof had explained it well enough, but she still wanted to see it first-hoof so that she didn't make a mistake.
The stallion at the front stepped up to the door, took a little card out of his coat pocket, and slid it through a little slot next to the door. A light above the door flashed green, then the stallion hopped inside the bus, and the next pony in line stepped up and did the same thing.
The third pony in line, though, his card made the little light flash red, and Applejack had to duck when the pony was caught in some kind of magical field and literally tossed into the crowd of pedestrians behind the line. There was quite a lot of commotion back there, lots of yelling and screaming and swearing that even made Applejack blush, and she was sure a fight was about to break out. It took all of her effort not to try and do something about it, because then she'd miss the bus.
Applejack only had a vague understanding of why that had happened: there weren't enough bits on the pony's card to board the bus, which Flathoof said was a flat fee to ride from one location to another. She absently fished her own card out of her shirt pocket; Lockwood had given it to her the night before and claimed it was a spare he had that was loaded with enough money to last Applejack a couple of weeks getting to and from the Mid-North District.
So, when it was her turn, Applejack slid the card through the little slot and tensed up, hoping that Lockwood's confidence wasn't misplaced.
Green.
Phew.
Applejack boarded the bus now and found that the comparison to a train was actually perfectly accurate, albeit the cheaper cars that didn't have private cabins. The seats were tightly packed together such that ten pairs of ponies could be comfortably seated on either side of the central aisle, though perhaps "comfortably" was an exaggeration. A cramped staircase at either end of the car led up to the other two floors.
Naturally, there weren't any seats on the first floor, as they'd been taken up by other passengers long before Applejack had even set hoof on board. So, she headed up to the second floor instead, and was able to find a seat that was empty and, for now, not next to anypony else. A couple of ponies here and there gave her odd looks as she walked down the narrow aisle to her seat of choice; she supposed that her hat was drawing the attention, since nopony in this city wore anything like it.
Once she'd taken her seat, though, Applejack settled in, set her hat gently over her eyes, and tried to relax.
For the next two hours, the bus made stop after stop after stop, letting ponies off and on with such frequency that the car Applejack was in had a completely different set of passengers aside from her before the first hour was even up. Some passengers had taken the empty seat next to her, and while she tried to be polite and cordial with them, it seemed that everypony generally wanted to keep to themselves and didn't even spare her a moment of their time
Well, that was fine by her.
Instead Applejack occupied her time just looking out the window at the cityscape as it passed by. She'd made the comparison to Manehattan already, but she was starting to think that was unfair to Manehatten, which generally seemed to do a rather fine job of making itself look presentable, and certainly wasn't so congested. Why, even in Manehattan Square, the busiest part of the city, there weren't close to a quarter of the number of ponies that occupied the city streets here.
She was just glad she didn't have a fear of crowds. She couldn't imagine what Fluttershy would be going through.
*****
Eventually, Applejack reached her stop and hopped off the bus, then did what she could to get her bearings. The buildings in this part of the city were much smaller, regular-style homes rather than grand apartment complexes that stretched into the sky, more like the kinds they had in Canterlot, only smaller and packed together much, much more tightly. Apparently this was what a Mid-North residential neighborhood looked like, and sure, it was a bit run-down, but it was far less imposing.
She hadn't the slightest clue where anything in this city was, so she relied entirely on Flathoof's instructions to her by this point, which she remembered as clear as day. After the stop, she walked down the street to the corner to her right, turned left, and followed that street down for three blocks before making another left, going another block, then turning right.
Sure enough, just outside one of the homes on this street, she saw Flathoof waiting, already in his police uniform and everything. He's said he'd be leaving soon after she got there, but she wasn't expecting it to be so soon.
Beside him was another stallion, taller than Flathoof by a few inches and quite robust, with a butter yellow coat and a strawberry red mane that he wore very, very short. He wore a plaid blue work shirt not unlike Applejack's own, with a tan jacket over that.
Applejack had to blink a few times and rub her eyes just to be sure she wasn't looking at a picture in an old family photo album back home. She'd already noticed that Flathoof could easily pass for a Big Macintosh look-alike if he grew an inch and gained about twenty pounds of muscle, but then his father's resemblance to her own father was… unsettling. She was sure Twilight would have a better word for it.
Still, she shook off that brief sensation—Flathoof's father wasn't as tall as hers, either, and not nearly as well-built—and approached the pair. "Mornin'!" she said, giving a brief wave.
"Hey, right on time," Flathoof said with a slight grin. "How was your first bus ride? Did you manage to find a good seat?"
"I handled myself okay, I think. City sure is big though, ain't it? I know ya said the ride would take two hours, but I thought y'all were exaggeratin' or somethin'. Y'all do this every day to get to your job?"
"Absolutely. Speaking of which, I've got to catch the next bus in about five minutes, so I'm sorry if I have to make this quick." He gestured to his father. "Applejack, this is my dad, Stouthoof. Dad, this is Applejack."
Applejack stuck out her hoof. "Howdy there! Pleasure to meet ya, sir."
Stouthoof took her hoof and shook it. "Yes yes, nice to meet you. My son says you're a hard worker, Applejack. Is that true?"
"Sure as shootin'. He told me y'all work at some kind of factory or somethin' and had a job openin' for me?"
"Yes, in one of the Foundry's storage warehouses. You'd be a stock worker, which basically means lots of heavy lifting and sorting of materials and shipping containers. Think you can handle that?"
"Absolutely!"
"You'd better. If I recommend you for the position and you don't pull through with flying colors, it's my ass that looks stupid for suggesting it. Just so we're clear."
Applejack nodded. "We're clear, sir."
His comments made her just a little bit nervous. She was used to working hard and representing the Apple Clan when it came to making sure the farm was always in tip-top shape whether it be actual harvesting or just with sales and presentations, but she was very much unfamiliar with being responsible for somepony else's reputation.
"C'mon, dad, you don't need to worry her like that—" Flathoof started.
"Oh, shut up and go catch your bus," Stouthoof interrupted with a grunt. "If she can't handle me being a bit of a hardass right now, then she won't last twenty minutes with the warehouse crew."
Flathoof rolled his eyes and turned to Applejack. "Don't let him get to you. He's just mad because Mom's got him on a diet." He adjusted his hat and gave the two a nod. "Alright, I'm off. Good luck, Applejack. You'll need it."
Applejack nodded back and smiled. "Thanks, Flathoof. For everything."
With that, Flathoof cantered off towards the bus stop, leaving Applejack and Stouthoof alone.
Applejack turned to Stouthoof and adjusted her own hat. "Well, I'm ready to get goin' if y'all are, sir."
"Good, you're eager. I like that. Means you're confident," Stouthoof said as he turned and started down the street, not even gesturing for her to follow, though she did so anyway. "So, new in town, huh? Flathoof said you were from the southern continent?"
"Yessir, from a lil' town called Ponyville," Applejack said, keeping to the story she and her friends were going with as best she could. She hated lying about it, but knew that it was necessary and would do what she could to keep that secret intact.
"Flathoof didn't give me much information on why he thought you'd be good for this position, but I trust him—even if he is a bit of a dumbass sometimes—so I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt for now. Why don't you tell me just what it is you used to do that makes him think this is a good fit?"
Applejack nodded and rambled on to him as they walked through the streets, all about every last little job she did on the farm: bucking apples out of their trees—he didn't know what an apple was, either; pulling heavy carts full of crops from the field to storage or to market; hoeing soil to plant fresh seeds; watering plants day-by-day; tending to various critters that lived on the farm that provided products, like chickens and their eggs; chasing off varmints that threatened crops; the whole works.
By the time she finished—and he hadn't interrupted her once except to clarify things he didn't know anything about—the pair had walked clear from Stouthoof's home all the way to the Foundry where they'd be working, at which point he finally stopped her story.
"Alright, that all sounds like it might be of some help to you as far as the physical labor and such is concerned," he said with a courteous nod. "How about working under anypony else? You said you and your family own this farm of yours? So I take it you didn't have a boss while you were working there?"
"A boss? No sir, ain't had no boss on the farm," she said, scratching her chin. "I mean, I guess you could say that Mother Nature was the boss, really, since we had to organize all of our duties on the farm based on things like the time of day, what part of the year it was, and how the weather was supposed to be on any particular day."
Stouthoof smirked. "Well, you'll find out whether or not your new boss here is a bigger hardass than Mother Nature pretty soon, I think." He turned and gestured towards the factory. "So, this is your first time seeing a factory like this, huh?"
Applejack gazed at the mind-numbingly huge structure that stood before her. "Yeah… sure is."
It wasn't as tall as the apartment complex where she and her friends lived, but it was certainly wider, covering several city blocks. Dozens of tall smokestacks rose up from various parts of the structure, belching out plumes of thick, black smoke that choked the air above them even worse than the smog did. The structure was surrounded by a tall fence some thirty feet high; it'd keep out earth ponies and maybe unicorns, but definitely not a pegasus, though the smoke would probably do the job just fine in that case.
The sounds of work echoed through the air: of metal pounding metal, and saw blades slicing through materials, of ponies shouting and calling out orders and warnings and such, of machinery lifting and moving throughout the area. Applejack could even see some of the latter machinery, which looked like small coaches with large forks attached to the front, driving along without rails or anypony pushing or pulling them, just like the bus. A single pony was seated in a cage atop the contraption, manipulating levers that seemed to make the fork move up and down and also made the coach move to and fro.
The worst part of it all was the smell. She'd smelled the faint hints of this same scent on Flathoof just from being next to him in an elevator, and the odor was stronger on Stouthoof by far. Here at the actual location, though, the air was clogged with the stench of fire and ash, oil and soot, and even faint hints of sweat which, considering she couldn't see anypony but herself and Stouthoof—and she hadn't smelled it until now—meant that there were a lot of sweaty ponies working in that building.
"Impressed?" Stouthoof asked with a little proud smile.
"Well, it's certainly bigger than my lil' ol' farm, I tell ya what," Applejack said, the sort of non-answer, half-truth that she was okay with; the factory wasn't so much impressive as it was imposing and unsettling. "Ya said your family's been workin' here for generations?"
"That we have. Bit of a family tradition. Flathoof's the first stallion born into the family not to take a job here, y'know?"
"Yeah, he told me. Said y'all didn't quite like that."
"Eh, I was mad at him at the time, sure," Stouthoof said with a shrug. "Can't stay mad at him forever, though. I mean, I can, but at some point there's no fun in arguing with him about it. He chose his path and he likes what he does, so I say let him do what he wants."
He shook his head. "Well, enough gabbing out there like a couple of gossipy hens with nothing better to do. Let's get you inside so I can introduce you to your new boss," he said as he headed towards a gate that led through the fence.
"Hang on, ya mean y'all ain't gonna be my boss?" she asked as she followed him, now just a little less sure of this whole thing.
"No, you're working in the warehouse, like I said, so the forepony there is going to be your new boss. I'm the forepony for the smelting line, and nothing you told me on the way here makes me think you'd be qualified for that kind of work even if I did have an opening. No offense, but working with liquid metal all day isn't the same as bucking trees and hauling wagons."
"Well… alright then, I guess if that's the way it's gotta be…"
"Don't worry, you'll do fine. Just work hard, keep your mouth shut, listen to your boss, and I promise that nopony'll give you any real trouble. And remember," he added, putting a hoof on her shoulder and giving her a smirk, "it's my ass that gets an earful if you screw this up."
Applejack gulped. "Right…"
*****
Applejack was used to lugging along heavy loads back home, that was the honest truth, but she'd be lying if she said that what was expected of her here in this factory warehouse was easier than what she was used to. At home, she'd pull a wagon full of apples or other crops from the farm to the market in Ponyville, but that wagonload didn't really weigh much in the grand scheme of things. On a good day, Applejack could expect to pull a hundred or so pounds for at least a mile or so with relative ease, and the trips back were always easier.
The arrangements here in the warehouse expected her to carry at least twice that, and while the distance was far less per trip she was making multiple trips and doing them constantly. At the moment she was hauling a storage container that had been set upon a wheeled platform over to a designated area; the container weighed easily two hundred pounds, but thankfully she only had to pull it a hundred feet from a loading platform to its storage space. At least the harness she wore was comfortable enough; it didn't bite into her sides or anything.
Watching her at the moment was the pony that was to be her supervisor, a well-built unicorn stallion named Clay Brick. He had a brownish-red coat and a black mane that was just starting to gray, wearing an outfit very similar to what Stouthoof had been wearing as well as a yellow hard hat. Speaking of which, Applejack had had to leave her stetson in her assigned locker, because she also needed to be wearing a similar hard hat. She wanted to make a fuss, but decided against it; apparently it was a safety regulation.
A few other ponies in the warehouse had been rubbernecking for the past thirty minutes or so that Applejack had been hauling these few containers about. She noticed that they were all stallions, and that they all nudged one another in the ribs and laughed as they watched her work before heading back to their own jobs. She couldn't hear anything they said to one another, but didn't assume the best of the conversations.
Once Applejack had lugged this last container into place, she removed herself from the harness and grabbed the bottle of water that Clay was offering; she'd never had such a mighty thirst before. She was glad that even if the food in the city was fake, they still had real water to drink, and downing that bottle of surprisingly crisp, cool water was like a breath of fresh air after all that hard work. How the city got such clean water was beyond her; she'd have to ask somepony another time.
Clay grunted once and nodded. "Alright, not bad, not bad at all. You've got pretty good hauling power there, New Girl. I'll admit that I wasn't expecting much, but you blew right past my expectations."
Applejack let out a breath and wiped her mouth. "Uh, thanks, I think?"
"Oh, don't think this is a compliment," he was quick to add. "I've got a scale here from one-to-ten to determine the strongest members of the crew so I can divvy things up. You're sitting somewhere around a six or seven. Which is good, yes, absolutely, but half the crew is in the same range, so don't go getting a fat head just yet."
Applejack smirked. Considering the size of some of the other stallions on the crew she'd seen thus far, she'd take it as a compliment if her new boss thought she was able to keep up with them, even if he didn't intend for it to sound like one. In fact, she was sure he was just saving face by trying to tell her it wasn't a big deal.
"So, do I get the job?" she asked.
"Yeah, you've got the job," Clay said, making a few marks on a clipboard he had with him. "You'll start immediately. Is that alright with you?"
She nodded. "Absolutely, yes. I'm lookin' forward to gettin' to work."
"Good. First thing's first, though, let's get you introduced to the rest of the crew."
Clay trotted over to a small device on the nearby wall and pushed a button on it, and a loud crackling noise resounded throughout the warehouse. He spoke directly into the device, and Applejack was amazed to hear his voice boom out from everywhere around her.
"Listen up, Crew Seventeen! Crew meeting at the west loading platform in sixty seconds! Double time it!"
In the amount of time it took Applejack to try and figure out how Clay had projected his voice without magic—she was sure it was still magic that did it, but it wasn't his own—the entire crew of Warehouse Seventeen had lined up. Applejack recognized a few of them from earlier, where they'd been gawking at her hauling containers. Even now the entire crew—all stallions, as she'd noticed before—was looking at her like she was completely out of place, which was starting to make her feel like it.
"Crew Seventeen, listen up! I'm gonna make this quick so you can all get back to work," Clay announced, pacing in front of the crew like he was some sort of military sergeant. "We've got new blood on the team! I know it's been a while since we took on anypony new without somepony else leaving first, but here we are, and you all know what I expect."
"So who's the new guy already?" asked a green pegasus with a white mane, his tone impatient.
"Yeah, I don't see anypony new," said a hulking yellow earth pony with a green mane.
Clay gestured towards Applejack, his face and tone still as serious as ever. "Our new mare is right here."
Applejack gave a little wave, a nervous smile on her face. "Uh, howdy y'all. Pleased to meet ya."
There was a brief moment of silence.
Then, the entire crew—sans Clay Brick—erupted into raucous laughter.
"That's a good one, boss!" shouted yellow-and-green, throwing his hoof around another crew member, a red-coated pegasus with a blue mane. "A mare on the warehouse floor? Pfft, hahaha!"
"Yeah, is she gonna be the new cleaning lady? Mopping the floors after closing time?" asked green-and-white, slapping the floor with his hooves and faking a struggle to breathe.
Applejack's ears flattened against her head, her cheeks heating up out of both anger and embarrassment.
"Now hold on, guys, let's not be too hasty," said a blue-and-blond earth pony, a coy grin on his face. "We're all gentlecolts here, aren't we? We oughta be nice to New Girl. Show her a little bit of respect."
Applejack breathed a sigh of relief. At least somepony was decent—
"After all, I bet she's really great at handling huge loads," the stallion finished with a bow and truly mesmerizing shit-eating grin.
The rest of the crew ceased their hooting and hollering to switch over to whistling and howling, the target of their japes no longer one of ridicule but of perversion.
Applejack clenched her teeth. Of all the rotten—
Clay cleared his throat, which seemed to quiet a few of them down enough so they could hear him. "Miss Applejack here is indeed joining our warehouse floor crew, and in fact she's going to be taking over Station Thirteen."
That made the entire crew grow silent instantly.
"You're joking," said green-and-white, eyes wide. Clay's expression said he wasn't, but the other stallion pressed anyway. "Naw, you can't be serious. This is a joke, right boss? You're having a little laugh with us?"
"C'mon, boss, you know she can't just fill that spot just like that!" shouted yellow-and-green, incredulous. "That's Thickhoof's old position! I thought you were keeping that spot empty—"
"And now I'm not, at the request of Forepony Stouthoof himself," Clay interrupted, still keeping a calm, even tone. "If you have a problem with me filling the position that I myself chose not to fill, then why don't you go find Forepony Stouthoof and tell him that you think you know better than he does about who deserves to fill it?"
A few murmurs went through the crowd. Applejack was surprised, actually; now she knew what Stouthoof had meant when he said it was his reputation that was at risk here. This crew seemed to respect the stallion. No, this was more… fear? A fearful respect?
"But… but boss, she's a mare," complained green-and-white, gesturing at Applejack like she was a foal.
"So what if I am?!" snapped Applejack, so sick of hearing her worth put down by now that she was surprised she'd let it get this far. "I can do the job just as good as the rest of y'all can! I saw a few of ya gawkin' at me while I was haulin' containers around, so I know y'all saw that I can handle the job."
Blue-and-blond's mouth curled in a little grin, and he waggled his eyebrows. "Ooh baby, you can handle me all you want, New Girl," he said with a wink. "I bet a mare like you handled all sorts of packages back in whatever mailroom ol' Stouthoof found you in."
Applejack just narrowed her eyes at him; she also noticed a couple of the other stallions wince a little. "In case ya didn't notice, hotshot, I'm luggin' them big shippin' containers around just like the rest of ya. If you're lookin' for somepony to handle that little thing ya call a 'package', then maybe you oughta call the damn postal service."
The crew's earlier laughter at the concept of having a mare on their team had been particularly loud, but now, their laughter now at their embarrassed crewmate was uproarious enough to completely put their previous display to shame.
Clay groaned and stomped his hooves on the ground to get the group's attention back on him. "Enough, all of you! You've all wasted enough time here acting like a bunch of damned teenagers back on the schoolyard, so get your lazy asses back to work! Now!"
None of the crew members argued with him, not even offering a single peep of resistance to the command. A few wandered back to their work stations shooting looks and laughs at their embarrassed fellow crew member; a few glanced back at Applejack, and she wasn't sure if they were doing so out of amusement or mockery, or if their looks meant something else; the blue-and-blond hotshot just walked back to work grumbling under his breath, shooting an indignant look back at Applejack as he went.
Once they'd all cleared out, Applejack turned to Clay and gave him a small nod and a smile. "Thanks," she said.
Clay scoffed. "Thanks? For what? For telling that bunch of lazy assholes to get back to work? Time is money, New Girl, and the board hates wasting either of those. So don't go thinking I did anything to get you out of trouble, because I didn't." He paused for a moment, then gestured with his hooves for Applejack to get moving when she hadn't done so. "Well? What are you still standing around here for? Get to work. You're on Station Thirteen."
"Oh, right," Applejack chuckled. "But, uh… if y'all don't mind me askin' before I head out… what exactly was all of that about? The stuff about Thickhoof and Stouthoof, and me takin' his spot or whatever?"
Clay shook his head and clapped Applejack on the shoulder. "Another time, New Girl. Now go on, before the rest of these jackasses think I'm going soft on you just because you're a mare or something. For the record, I'm not. So get moving."
Applejack nodded, then headed off through the warehouse towards her new workstation. She wasn't sure what to think of this whole situation, but she was glad to be working at least. It sure would help to keep her mind off of everything going on, give her something to occupy her mind and time rather than worrying about whether Winter and Twilight had found anything yet, even if it had only been a few hours.
*****
The clerical office at NPPD's Central Station was, as always, dead quiet. At least, it had been, until Flathoof showed up late that afternoon and noticed that a certain unicorn wasn't sitting at her desk for the second day in a row.
Flathoof furrowed his brow. This was completely unlike Snapshot to just up and disappear like this. It was one thing that she'd left a note the other night saying that she was feeling ill and had not only forgotten to clock out, but wouldn't be at work yesterday. Typically, though, Snapshot was quick to notify somepony—usually him—if she'd be out for multiple days, and at the very least give a reason why.
Last time she was out at all was because a bad case of Dolor Green had given her some kind of stomach flu, and she'd been out for three days because of it. He'd known about it within hours of her not feeling well; she'd called him in the middle of the night—woke the whole family because of it—to say she wouldn't be at work the next morning, and made sure he'd known that she'd be missing the next day and the day after. She was always responsible like that.
But this was two days in a row that he hadn't heard anything from her whatsoever, and that was very, very unusual.
"What do you mean 'nopony's heard from her'?" Flathoof asked the other clerk, Firecracker, his voice loud and angry. "She's almost never taken a day off the whole time she's worked here, especially not without notifying anypony."
Firecracker barely paid any attention to him, and focused instead on filling out the myriad forms she had all over her desk. "I mean exactly what I said, big boy. No contact whatsoever. Figures that she'd leave me with all the paperwork."
Flathoof pounded a hoof on the counter. "I don't care about any of that. I want to know why nopony's bothered to find out why she didn't come in today or notify anypony. Didn't anypony call her apartment when she was late this morning? That's proper protocol."
"Yeah, but nopony answered, and you know as well as I do that we don't waste time on repeat calls."
"This is for a fellow officer, not just random pony," Flathoof said. He immediately regretted it, because that made him sound like he placed a fellow officer's well-being over that of average citizens, which he very much didn't. "Look, give her another call and let me know what you find out—"
"You're probably gonna have to clear that up with the chief, Captain," Firecracker said with a lazy sigh. She rolled her eyes and waved her pen in the air. "If you ask me, she's probably too busy shacking up with that CIA stallion that was here the other night looking for her. Either that or too busy crying her eyes out after he shot her down. I doubt she could have landed a stallion looking like him."
Flathoof balked. "The CIA? They had an agent here looking for Snapshot?" He shook his head. "What in the world? Why?"
"Don't know, don't care," she said, shrugging it off. "Dumb little filly got all hot and bothered the second he walked in, though, I could see it a mile away. Maybe she got lucky and the idiot fell for that 'nerd charm' of hers. I mean hey, everypony's gotta get lucky sometime."
Flathoof glared at her. "And you never bothered to inform the chief about this?"
"Duh, why would I? What Snapshot gets up to on her own time is her own business. She's not my friend, so I don't really care."
"You should care, because it's your job."
"No, honey, my job is filing paperwork, not playing detective." Firecracker flicked her mane and idly eyed one of her hooves. "It's not my business, and besides, it would be Snapshot's job to report it, not me. Read up on your protocol before you start quoting it at me, 'kay? Thanks."
Flathoof could feel his blood pressure rising. If the situation was reversed and Firecracker was seen interacting with a CIA agent, Snapshot would have reported it immediately, because it was… it was just the responsible thing to do, even if it wasn't strictly-speaking "her job" to do so.
"Anyway, they were still in the middle of their interview when my shift was over, and I wasn't keeping track of when they started," Firecracker continued. "I didn't really feel like sticking around to see what they were talking about, either. I barely even remember what he looked like apart from being kinda handsome."
Flathoof sighed and held the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'm going to just ignore the massive breaches in protocol that not reporting the CIA being involved entails, because it still would've been your responsibility since Snapshot wasn't at work yesterday. I'll even ignore your complete disregard for Snapshot's well-being—"
"Oh, is that what this is about? Caring about how she is?" Firecracker scoffed. "Look, Captain, the only pony around here that gives a crap about her is you. She's just a pencil-pushing busybody who would probably have been better suited being some fat CEO's secretary. At least then she'd be getting dick on the regular."
Flathoof just stared at the other mare like she was a bug. "You know… she never liked you."
"What-ever."
He shook his head and walked out of the room; trying to get anything else out of Firecracker wasn't going to get him anywhere. If there had been a CIA agent here in the precinct, then hopefully somepony else had seen him. At worst, if everypony was like Firecracker and just looked the other way, then one of the station's cameras would have surely gotten a glimpse. He'd rather bank on the latter, honestly.
The precinct's security office was on the second floor, so Flathoof made a beeline for the elevator, then took it straight up.
Before he even got to the other end of the hall, though, he walked right past the chief's office, where the door was wide open.
"Flathoof!" called Chief Smokestack. "Get in here!"
Flathoof swore quietly to himself, then turned about-face and strode right into the chief's office. Unlike the open, neat courtroom across the hall, the office was compact and cluttered with files upon files, a few decorations here and there—a photo of the chief's family on the desk, for instance—and a large rotating fan to keep a nice, cool atmosphere.
There was another pony in here as well besides the chief, a young earth pony stallion with an emerald green coat and an orange mane. He was wearing an NPPD uniform as well, though with a few distinct markings on it that Flathoof recognized as those belonging to officers in the Mid-East precincts. The stallion—barely more than a colt, more like—had to be fresh out of the academy if even that.
"Just the pony I wanted to see," Smokestack said, gesturing for Flathoof to take a seat in the only remaining empty chair.
Flathoof paused for a moment, the steeled himself. This was as good a time as any to present what he'd learned downstairs.
"Chief, before you get started, I wanted to notify you of a breach in protocol down in the clerical office," he said as he took the offered seat. "Apparently there was a CIA agent spotted here two days ago, according to Officer Firecracker."
Smokestack's eyebrow shot up. "Really now? What for?"
"I don't know, sir, he didn't deal with her directly as far as I know. Apparently he only interviewed Officer Snapshot, who was out yesterday and didn't file a report on the incident. Firecracker doesn't remember the timing of the meeting or what the agent looked like."
"Of course she doesn't, the airheaded tramp," Smokestack sighed. "If she wasn't so good at giving— Whatever, I'll look into this further, see if we can't dredge anything up. If you're right about this, I'm going to have to have some words with Director Underhoof at the next Committee meeting. Thanks for bringing this to my attention, Captain."
Flathoof was glad the chief was taking this seriously, but then again he knew that he would. The chief absolutely hated when Director Underhoof's CIA got involved with NPPD cases; the jurisdiction friction between the city's law enforcement agencies was practically legendary these days. That tended to happen when the CIA Director was the Chief of Police's ex-wife.
"And another thing, sir," Flathoof continued, "Officer Snapshot was out again today, and nopony's been able to get in touch with her—"
Smokestack waved his hoof, a clear signal that this wasn't quite as important. "Have somepony give her a call or something, then. That's not exactly a breach in anything."
"They did, Chief, this morning. Nopony answered. Shouldn't we send an officer over to check up on her? I'd do it myself, but I'm on duty and I know you have to approve of me taking on another case, first. Considering she hasn't been in contact, this might well be a missing pony investigation in the making."
He didn't want to think on those terms—the idea that Snapshot was missing made his stomach turn—but it would be the best way to let the chief know this wasn't just another officer forgetting to show up to work or taking a day off to get drunk and gamble at the Inner District casinos.
"Ah, that would definitely make things more complicated. You're sure she's not just feeling ill and isn't answering the phone?"
"I'm not sure of anything yet, sir, expect that this is unusual behavior for her. She's never taken off sick days without notifying somepony."
Smokestack stroked his chin. "Hmmm… well, you'd know best, I suppose. Aren't you two dating?"
Flathoof flushed slightly. "N-no, sir. We aren't. We're just friends."
"Huh. Guess I owe Commander Matchstick eighty bits," Smokestack said with a shrug. "Anyway, I'll have to put somepony else on that investigation for now, Flathoof, but I'll make sure I put somepony reliable on it. I have something else in mind for you right now."
Flathoof raised an eyebrow. "Something else, Chief?"
"Let me cut to the chase," Smokestack said as he took a puff from his cigar. "You're aware of the fires sweeping the eastern Outer District, right?"
"Right, they still haven't put them all out," Flathoof said with a terse nod.
He was glad that at least the northern fires were contained and wouldn't spread into Mid-North or the factory areas, but it still felt terrible that the rest of the fire was an ongoing issue. The last reports said the death toll had reached triple digits this morning and property damage was estimated to be in the millions of bits.
"Well, if you saw this morning's news, it jumped into Mid-East, just like they were expecting," Smokestack continued. "I hear they've got it mostly contained by now so that it won't spread further west, but it got through a lot of neighborhoods in the few hours it was there, including through Station Six's territory."
"Wow, I had no idea it was still spreading so far. Were any officers hurt?"
"A few, but mostly minor burns and such, nothing serious. The real problem is that half the station burned down before the fires could be contained. It's gonna be a real pain in the ass adjusting budgets around for the rebuilding project, let me tell you."
Flathoof coughed. "Sir, forgive me, but I thought we were cutting to the chase?"
"Hmm? Right! Right." Smokestack gestured to the young officer in the other chair. "Flathoof, this is Cadet Gumshoe from Mid-East Six, where he was finishing the last month of his academy training."
Flathoof gave the young cadet a small nod. "Cadet."
The cadet returned the nod and gave a little salute. "Captain, a pleasure to meet you."
"Since Mid-East Six is currently in a rather unfortunate circumstance," Smokestack continued, "they've been reassigning officers and detectives to other precincts around the city, mostly to those that are a little understaffed. I had the academy cadets assigned here, though, and I've already got most of them assigned to detectives to finish up their training. All except Cadet Gumshoe here."
"And what does this have to do with me?" Flathoof asked, already dreading the answer.
"I want to assign him to you, of course."
Flathoof sighed, his hoof moving to the bridge of his nose. "With all due respect, Chief, I've got my hooves full at the moment. You put me on task as a parole officer to six different mares—"
"That's precisely why I thought of you!" Smokestack said with a smile and another cigar puff. "That's the only thing our young cadet is missing from his training, actually: proper procedure when dealing with parolees."
"But Chief, we have dozens of parole officers—"
"And none of them are as reliable as you are, Captain. None of them will teach the cadet every single rule in the book; whether he follows them later is up to him, of course—no offense, son," he added, looking at the cadet, "but at least he'll know them. Besides, you've got yourself a rather unusual set of parolees, right? What better way to learn the ins and outs of the system than with unusual situations?"
Flathoof clenched his teeth, desperately trying to think of a way out of this, but he knew he couldn't. The chief was placing his trust in him, and this cadet did need to learn proper procedures after all. Then again, with how… unusual Twilight and her friends were, there were sure to be lots of twisting of the rules to amend the situation. But maybe that was a good thing for the learning experience?
Damn it. Why did I have to be so good at this job?
Flathoof sighed, then nodded. "Alright, Chief, you can count on me."
Smokestack grinned and put out his cigar in his ashtray. "Good! Good good good. You wouldn't believe the headache this'll save me, Flathoof. I couldn't imagine trying to foist this poor cadet on anypony else."
"Of course you couldn't, sir," Flathoof said flatly. He turned to Cadet Gumshoe and put on his best grin. "Well, Cadet, looks like you're my responsibility now."
Gumshoe gave a brisk salute. "It's an honor to be working with you, Captain. Chief Smokestack has been telling me all about you."
Flathoof gave Smokestack a terse look. "Has he?"
"Yes, sir, and you sound like the perfect pony to help me finish the last of my training. I'm looking forward to learning under your tutelage."
Flathoof stood from his chair and adjusted his hat, nodding at the Chief. "If that'll be all, Chief?"
Smokestack kicked back in his chair and lit up another cigar. "That'll be all, Captain. Keep up the good work and you might just make Commander soon."
Flathoof gestured for Gumshoe to follow him out of the officer. "Come on, kid, let's get started on this training of yours."
Gumshoe nodded, then offered a salute to Smokestack. "Chief!" Then, he followed behind Flathoof out of the office.
"So, anything I should know about your training so far?" Flathoof asked as they headed for the elevator.
Gumshoe offered a sheepish grin. "To be honest, sir, I've completed most of the particulars of my training already, insofar as dealing with how to arrange scheduling and the handling of paperwork. Mostly the only thing I'm missing is getting to interact with actual parolees so I can have that bit of personal face-to-face experience."
Flathoof grunted as the pair entered the elevator, then pushed the button for the first floor.
"Well, you're in luck," he said, "because I usually spend most of the day meeting with the ones I've currently got under my care. Though to be honest, I've already done my runs for the entire group today, and by now they're all separated and going about their business, so tracking them down would be a bit difficult. We could interrupt their dinner later, but that's not really necessary."
"So… we're not meeting them, sir?"
"You'll meet them all tomorrow, Cadet." Flathoof paused as an idea came to mind. "Though, I think there might be a chance for you to meet one later tonight."
"Huh?"
"One of them, a mare named Applejack, got a job working at the same factory my dad works at, so she'll be coming back from work with him and almost certainly joining the family for dinner, knowing my mother. And knowing my mother, she'd also be glad to set another seat at the table for you."
Gumshoe balked, clearly not expecting this arrangement at all, but why would he? "Captain? Are you inviting me to dinner with your family? And one of your parolees? I mean, th-that seem highly unprofessional, and I'm not sure if—"
Flathoof rolled his eyes. "Don't act weird, Cadet. When you're dealing with unusual parolees, sometimes situations get unusual. I know it's not exactly proper protocol for a parole officer to invite his charge over for dinner, but it's not against the rules and it's helping the mare adjust to life in the big city."
Gumshoe seemed to consider this, then nodded. "No, you're right, Article Twenty-Three, Subsection Twelve, Paragraph Four: 'It is a parole officer's duty to ensure that their charge is able to reacclimate into society at large, including but not limited to the payment of taxes'."
"You've already memorized the protocol booklet?" Flathoof asked, impressed; there were officers on the force with years of experience that didn't have it memorized yet.
"Absolutely, sir. So, you have to make sure this Applejack is comfortable enough to earn a steady paycheck so that she can pay her taxes, right?"
Flathoof paused, then snorted. That wasn't the reason he was doing it, but it was definitely why nopony questioned any of the decisions he'd made so far in regards to Twilight and her friends, which included so many rules being bent that they'd probably snap under the right circumstances. And it was most certainly the excuse that he'd be using if anypony did ask questions.
"That's about right, Cadet," Flathoof replied. "This mare is a long way from home and got in some legal trouble when she first got here, so I'm making sure she adjusts into a good, tax-paying citizen as smoothly as I can. If that means inviting her over for dinner with my family, so be it. She's not a dangerous criminal, after all."
"Well alright then, I guess if that's how this is gonna go, who am I to argue? You're the boss, sir," Gumshoe said, giving Flathoof another brisk salute.
"Right. Well, for now I think we'll head over to the filing room to get you acquainted with my parolees’ paperwork, at least so I can see how well your training is in that regard. Sound good?"
"Absolutely, sir!"
The elevator finally arrived at the first floor, and Flathoof led his new charge out into the lobby. The cadet seemed eager to learn, at least, and even if Flathoof was bothered that he had yet another pony to keep tabs on and take care of, he figured that maybe it wouldn't be so bad. At the very least, it might give him time to look into other things.
Wherever Snapshot was, Flathoof figured that since the CIA was somehow involved, it likely meant she was just being asked—forced, more appropriately—to maintain discretion about whatever it is that she was questioned over and that meant not contacting anypony for any reason.
He just hoped she was staying safe.
*****
Applejack was used to doing lots of back-breaking work day-in and day-out to keep her family farm running, so the concept of a hard day's work wasn't exactly alien to her by any means. Working in the factory's storage warehouse, however, was an experience utterly unlike anything she'd dealt with before. It wasn't so much that it was harder or anything like that, no; sure, hauling containers around so they could be sorted and stored wasn't easy, but it wasn't exactly more difficult than bucking half an orchard full of apples by lunch time.
What made it different—unpleasant, really—was the environment that she was working in.
She was used to having clear skies overhead or maybe some clouds on particularly sunny days; the worst she could expect to deal with during the regular farming seasons was a nasty heat wave, and Ponyville's weather patrol was good about getting those cleared up pretty quickly.
She was used to working with family who loved her and treated her with respect and compassion, or even with friends that would always be willing to help her out of a jam even if she was too stubborn to accept it.
She was used to being able to judge her own work and decide whether she was doing a good job or not, and thus whether she deserved a chance to take a break under a shady tree with a glass of lemonade.
She wasn't used to working indoors all day in a stuffy old warehouse that smelled of grease and soot instead of grass and apples, or being so tightly-packed with others most of the day that the pungent stench of sweat she smelled was definitely not just her own, but of twelve hard-working stallions.
She wasn't used to working with ponies that looked at her like she was simply beneath them, not fit to be working in the same field at all. Or, in a few cases—Applejack wasn't blind—like they'd enjoy having her beneath them in a distinctly bedroom-related fashion, and definitely not in the romantic sense.
And even though Clay Brick certainly seemed like a decent enough stallion, he was definitely the hard-nosed and picky sort that was overly-critical of every aspect of the job and quick to press her into working to her limits. Not beyond them, thankfully, but Clay just did not let up whatsoever if she looked like she could handle it, and she was proud to say that she could.
So, when the end of Applejack's shift came along and she was able to clock out—the entire concept of punching a time card was utterly bizarre to her—the first thing she did was walk outside the factory—ignoring the members of her crew that hooted or whistled in her direction—find a bench to sit on, and take the breather she knew she deserved.
It didn't help that she was utterly starving by now; her lunch break had been horribly short and only consisted of a packet of that Dolor Red stuff, which tasted like overly-ripe cherries and wasn't at all satisfactory.
She'd always considered herself the hardest worker in all of Equestria, but damn if this new job wasn't exhausting.
"So, looks like you made it through your first day at work, huh?" asked Stouthoof as he walked over to her. He looked every bit as pooped as she did, his clothes and face covered in sweat and grease and even a few scorch marks. "Is it everything you always imagined it would be?"
Applejack let out a breath, too tired to laugh at his attempt at a joke. "Let me tell ya, Mister Stouthoof, I've never gone a day in my life where I wasn't workin' hard at somethin', but I ain't never experienced anythin' like that before. When I see my family again, I'm gonna make sure I tell 'em that just 'cause folk work in the city don't mean they ain't as hard workin' as us country folk."
Stouthoof grinned. "Well, it certainly sounds like this was a real learning experience for you, then. Did Clay give you any trouble?"
"Naw, he worked me hard and all that but I know he weren't doin' it to be mean. He pushed me to my limits, but he knew when to pull back." Applejack then snorted and glanced at one of the other crew members—the blue-and-blonde one, actually—as they left the factory. "It's the rest of the crew that gave me trouble."
"Ah, yeah, I imagine they did," Stouthoof said with a knowing smile, following her gaze discreetly. "Lots of stallions who work at this factory think that factory work is stallions' work and that mares don't have any business being here unless it's to clean up after we all go home or to work in the mailroom. That's just how it's been for years and years."
Applejack tapped her hoof to her heart. "Yeah, well, this mare ain't gonna let none of that horseapples get to her, no sir. I'll work just as hard as any stallion, like I always have. Harder, even. And not 'cause I've got somethin' to prove, but 'cause that's just who I am at heart. They'll see."
Stouthoof chuckled and clapped her on the shoulder. "That's the spirit. You'll show them yet, I'm sure of it. I know I was taking a risk listening to Flathoof, but if I didn't think you could handle the job I wouldn't have recommended you to Clay."
Applejack paused. "That reminds me: Clay said somethin' 'bout me takin' up Thickhoof's old position, that y'all asked him specifically to let me take it. What in the hay is he talkin' about? It kinda made the rest of the crew act funny."
Stouthoof's smile turned a little sad. "I won't go into any details, but shortly after my son got injured, Clay got promoted to the crew's supervisor position. He said that he wasn't going to fill Thickhoof's old position as long as he was in charge. I guess he said I asked him to let you have it?"
"He did. Now, I won't pretend to understand what happened with your son 'n' all, but whatever ya said to Clay so that I could get this job, I appreciate it. I can't thank you enough for helpin' me 'n' my friends out of this here bind we're in."
"Don't mention it. If you want to thank me properly, though, you can accept an invitation to dinner with the family tonight. My lovely wife would kill me if I didn't offer."
Applejack grinned. "Well sure, I'd be glad to stay over for dinner. That's mighty nice of your family to have me."
"Great. Well then, shall we get a move on? Shortcake's probably already got things all put together for an extra setting, knowing her, and I know better than to keep her waiting when she wants to show off."
"Sounds good to me," Applejack replied.
*****
Applejack hadn't been into Flathoof's family home yet, but she'd been trying all day to picture in her head what it might look like. What it actually looked like wasn't quite what she expected, but it was wonderful nonetheless. Everything was neat and cozy and decorated up with all sorts of family keepsakes to really make the place feel lived-in, like a real, honest-to-goodness home for a real, honest-to-goodness family,
The place was a little cramped considering the size of the family, but then Applejack was getting used to the fact that most ponies in this city had to live in cramped conditions unless they were lucky or wealthy. If anypony in the family minded, they must not have made it obvious; only Flathoof had ever said anything about the situation and it was more that he wanted more for the entire family, not because he was dissatisfied with his lot in life.
All that really mattered for tonight, though, was the dining room, which was almost entirely taken up by a dining table that was clearly designed to comfortably seat four or five but typically held six; for tonight it was seated for… eight? Applejack wasn't sure if she'd lost track somewhere—she wasn't good with numbers like her brother—but she was pretty sure that with her included the count should make seven. Maybe Flathoof was bringing Lockwood over? Or Snapshot? Yeah, that made sense; one of them would make it eight.
While Shortcake—Flathoof's mother—and Pattycake—his sister—busied themselves in the kitchen with the last of the dinner preparations, only Applejack and Stouthoof were seated in the dining room.
She'd only met the former of the two mares in the family briefly when she'd arrived, and felt another pang of familiarity when looking at her just like with Stouthoof and Flathoof. The older mare had a pleasant light tan coat and a long, curly orange mane that she kept tied up while cooking. If not for her more shapely figure, Applejack could forgive herself for mistaking the other mare for her own mother.
But, while the mares were in the kitchen—Applejack had offered to help but been refused since she'd just come home from a hard day of work already—she and Stouthoof got a chance to spend a little more time together. The older stallion had procured a bottle of whiskey out of a cabinet in the dining room that apparently only he had a key to, and set two glasses down on the table: one for him, one for her.
"You take whiskey, Applejack?" he asked as he poured himself a glass.
She nodded and pushed her glass a little closer, maybe too eagerly. "Yessir, I do. What's the occasion?"
He poured her a glass as well. "Celebrating your first day at work, of course. Family tradition since my great-great-great grandfather's day. We always celebrate when our family members become real adults and enter the working world. These days we do it with a little glass of whiskey like this because, well, be honest: you could use a glass, couldn't you?"
"Ohhh yeah, I could use a good shot after today," she said as she took the glass in hoof. "But, uh, this ain't exactly my first day of work, what with the farm 'n' all, and I mean, I ain't exactly family—"
"Applejack?"
"Yeah?"
"Just drink the damn whiskey."
"Yup."
Stouthoof raised his glass. "To you, Applejack. Welcome to the real world." He clinked it against hers and pounded it back quick.
She smiled, then did the same.
She'd been expecting something awful like that Dolor coffee she'd had the other day, or really any of the fake foods she'd had so far; dinner last night had been alright, but only just so, especially once she found out that it was made of more of that Dolor junk. But when that whiskey slipped past her lips and into her throat and burned just right, she knew it was the real deal. Not just the real deal, but it was a damn fine whiskey, too, better than some of the stuff back home.
"Yeehaw! That's mighty fine stuff ya got there," Applejack said, licking her lips. "That's for-real whiskey?"
"Of course it is," Stouthoof said with a wide grin. "You can't fake alcohol, no matter how much Dolorcorp tries. Even the cheap crap is better than anything they could put out there."
"But… where do ya get it? I thought that y'all ain't got crops up here?"
Stouthoof leaned over just slightly. "It's not exactly a well-kept secret that we ship this stuff in from the south, just like the moneybags do with all their authentic foods. Unlike those crops or other goods, though, alcohol is a lot easier to come by."
"How come?"
"Hell if I know, but thank the stars it is. Before we started getting convenient airship travel, we had to make do with less authentic stuff. Moonshine. Rotgut. Hooch. Call it whatever you want, it'd knock your horseshoes clean off. 'Course, things have been even better the last thirty years or so, once Hope's Point really got itself established."
"Hope's Point, huh? I've heard that name before, from Lockwood I think. That some kind of city somewhere?"
"On the southern edge of the continent, right along the ocean. Been at war with New Pandemonium for decades, but hell if I know why."
"What's that got to do with alcohol?"
"Hope's Point makes their own just like we do, with imported crops, right? But they also smuggle a lot of their brands up here, because then they can make money off of the same ponies that hate them." Stouthoof smiled. "I can't think of a better way to stick it to all the idiot warmongers up here, really."
Applejack got a serious look on her face. "Way Lockwood says it, y'all could get in real trouble if anypony heard ya talkin' like that."
Stouthoof dismissed the thought with his hoof. "Way I see it, Applejack, when my time comes, they can bury me face down so that everypony that doesn't like me can kiss my ass."
That settles it, Applejack thought. Stouthoof's alright by me.
"Hot soup, coming through!" called Shortcake from the kitchen.
Then, Shortcake and Pattycake—each wearing matching pink blouses and white aprons—came into the dining room and started setting the table, putting plates and pots everywhere that contained all manners of food that Applejack was positive were made with the same Dolor junk she'd been dealing with all these past few days. It certainly smelled delicious, Applejack had to admit that, but would it taste the way it smelled? She could only hope.
Then Applejack noticed Pattycake, who likewise noticed her for the first time since she'd come into the room, and Applejack felt like time had frozen for half an instant while her brain tried to figure out just what was going on, as if the world suddenly didn't make a lick of sense.
This other mare—Flathoof's younger sister—had a rich orange coat and a short blonde mane that she kept in a neat bun, both so similar in color to Applejack that she could've sworn she was looking in a mirror for half a second if not for the clothes they were wearing. Pattycake even had green eyes, though hers had just a little bit of blue in them.
Stouthoof looked between the younger mares as they just stared at one another for that long moment. "What the hell's gotten into you two?"
Shortcake slapped his shoulder gently. "Oh hush, dear, don't act like you can't see it. Look at them, they're like two peas in a pod! I didn't really notice it until they were in the same room together, but sure enough. Well, this is just adorable." She pinched Pattycake's cheek and cooed. "You two could be twins!"
"Gah!" Pattycake rubbed her cheek where her mom had pinched her. "Geez, Mom, get off me, would ya?"
Shortcake gave Applejack a little grin. "My girl doesn't have your manners, though. I don't know where I went wrong with this one."
"Pleased to meet ya, Pattycake," Applejack said after she collected her wits. "Flathoof told me ya like to bake?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah. I mean, it's kind of my thing," Pattycake said, gesturing towards her cutie mark—a triple-decker chocolate cake—as she took her own seat. "All the mares in this family are just naturally really good at cooking, y'know?"
"Yeah, Flathoof said as much."
"I still find it really weird how you two even met. He said something about you and some friends getting arrested and now he's your parole officer or something? I mean, doesn't that sound weird to you?"
Applejack smiled. "That's pretty much the long 'n' short of the story, yeah, and it sure is weird. Not exactly the best first impression we could've had, but hey, I guess it could've been worse."
Pattycake rolled her eyes. "If you say 'it could've been raining', I swear."
"Dinner's ready!" Shortcake called out into the house.
It didn't take long for the table to be joined by the other two stallions of the family, Thickhoof and Shorthoof, Flathoof's younger brothers.
The former had a cream-colored coat and a rich brown mane that he kept short and wavy, and wore a simple button-up shirt. Applejack was momentarily reminded of her cousin Hayseed Turnip Truck, only Thickhoof seemed to be more… well, she couldn't think of a word that wouldn't sound insulting to Hayseed—maybe Twilight could—so she wouldn't go down that road. She had also already heard enough about his injury that she wasn't surprised or embarrassed by the fact that he rolled in on a wheelchair and had done so without help.
Shorthoof was just about Apple Bloom's age, and if he wasn't the spitting image of that little filly then Applejack would eat her hat. Their coat colors were nearly identical, as were their manes, and the only difference between the two that was really noticeable was that one was a filly and one was a colt. Well, that and Shorthoof didn't have a ribbon in his mane.
"Oh, hey, you must be Miss Applejack," Thickhoof said with a smile as he rolled over to his spot at the table. "Mom said you'd be joining us. A pleasure to meet you. I'm Thickhoof."
"Well thank ya kindly, Thickhoof, a pleasure to meet you too," Applejack said with a smile and a nod. The other stallion was awfully polite and had a pleasant smile that she was sure would make other mares swoon if he wanted to. This family had some good genes.
"You have a weird accent, Miss," Shorthoof said nonchalantly as he eased his way into his chair.
Shortcake huffed loudly. "Shorthoof! You apologize to Miss Applejack right now!"
"It's alright, Miss Shortcake, he don't mean nothin' by it," Applejack said as she gave the colt a reassuring glance. "I reckon I do sound awful strange 'round these parts anyhow. I ain't met or heard anypony talkin' like me so far."
"That's very kind of you, Applejack," Shortcake said, giving Shorthoof a look out of the corner of her eye. "Seems to me though that my children have forgotten how to show manners around the dinner table."
"Speaking of dinner, we're just waiting on Flathoof before we get started, right?" Thickhoof asked as he leaned over and took a big whiff of the dinner that was set out. "I hope he's not late again. This smells fantastic, Mom."
"You know the drill, son," said Stouthoof with a wry grin. "If your brother's not here in five minutes, we start eating without—"
A noise from the den alerted the family to the front door being opened. "Hey, I'm home!" came Flathoof's voice.
"Speak of the devil."
"Dinner's ready, sweetie!" called Shortcake. "Come on in!"
Applejack noticed that either Flathoof was walking funny or that there was a second set of hoofsteps coming in with him.
Sure enough, it was the latter.
Flathoof had arrived with another police officer, an earth pony stallion with a green coat and orange mane. He had to be only a few years younger than Applejack, fresh out of high school most likely. He was built fairly well—thin but athletic—and carried himself with a strange mix of confidence and curiosity that reminded Applejack of how Twilight got around a new book, or Rainbow when she was watching the Wonderbolts were showing off a new trick.
Now she knew why there was an eighth place set at the table, at least.
The pair had removed the hats from their uniforms as well as their badges and other accessories and equipment so that they only wore their shirts. Without all that gear on him, Flathoof didn't look quite as intimidating as usual, and if anything looked fairly approachable. Now more than ever he looked like a younger Big Macintosh, even though they had to be about the same age.
"So, who's your new friend?" asked Pattycake as she eyed the stallion carefully. "He's cute."
The other officer blushed slightly and coughed into his hoof before saluting like some kind of soldier. "Cadet Gumshoe, reporting—"
Flathoof gently pushed the other stallion's hoof back down. "At ease, Cadet, sheesh. No need to be so formal, that's just my sister, not the Queen of Hope's Point or something."
"If he wants to treat me like a queen, I won't mind," said Pattycake with a flutter of eyelashes.
"R-right…" Gumshoe gulped and took his seat at the table.
Shortcake cleared her throat and gently prodded Pattycake's shoulder. "No flirting at the dinner table, sweetie. Wait until after dessert."
"Yes, Mom."
"I didn't know you had a partner, son," Stouthoof said as he gave the newcomer a once-over. "I thought you worked alone?"
Flathoof rubbed his chin and took his seat. "I'll make the long story short and just say that he's a transfer from a Mid-East precinct due to the fires, and he's been assigned to me to finish up his parole protocol training. Speaking of which." He nudged Gumshoe and gestured towards Applejack. "Cadet, meet Applejack. She's one of the parolees I'm handling."
Gumshoe offered his hoof. "A pleasure to meet you, Miss Applejack."
Applejack smiled and took his hoof to shake it. "Shucks, pleasure's all mine. Y'all gonna be assisting' ol' Flathoof here, then? Learnin' how to handle this whole, uh… parole business?"
"That's right," Gumshoe said with a small grin. "Once I finish this up, I get my real badge and everything. I'm glad to be training under Captain Flathoof, too. I heard he's the best down at Central Station."
"Well if there's anypony at that station that can do the job properly, it's my Flathoof," said Shortcake as she, too, took her seat. "But enough of that, everypony! Dig in before the food gets cold."
Now that everypony was seated and had the mare of the house's blessing, everypony at the dining table immediately began serving up food to one another and digging right in.
Applejack was more than just a little surprised at how legitimately good the food was, despite knowing full well that it wasn't real ingredients being used. She simply had to ask how that had been accomplished, and Shortcake was more than happy to share her secrets. According to her, depending on how one prepared the Dolor products, they could take on all sorts of different flavors, and getting the precise flavors you wanted was a matter of timing and skill, but most of all, care and passion.
The soup was made of Dolor Orange that had been heated and mixed with some Dolor Red and water, making the whole thing taste like vegetable soup, down to the taste of carrots and peppers. A lump of greenish-blue had been made of a precise mix of Green and Yellow and baked at just the right temperature to make it taste like buttery steamed broccoli. Thin, soft strips of Yellow had been seared properly to taste like grilled squash. A little bowl of Red had been properly stored and blended so that it tasted like cranberry sauce.
Applejack was, quite simply, stunned.
But there was something wrong with the whole picture. As she looked out across the table and saw Flathoof's family sharing this meal together, chatting about their days, and laughing and smiling at jokes and stories, the only thing that really came to her mind was that they were a very close, very happy family.
Worse, the fact that so many of them looked so similar to members of her own family just sent a little ache through her heart. Nevermind that if she were home right now she'd be sharing a meal just like this with her brother and sister and grandmother, no. The worst part was seeing two ponies that reminded her so much of her own parents sharing this meal all the same.
There was just something about the way that Shorthoof laughed when Pattycake told a story about her day at culinary school. It was just like how Apple Bloom would laugh when Applejack told stories about the kinds of shenanigans she and her friends got up to in their zany adventures. Something about the way that he ate his food, even, and had to be chided by his mother for chewing too loudly, just like Apple Bloom would do sometimes.
There was just something about how Flathoof, despite being rather talkative elsewhere, was a quiet listener while at the dining table, putting his full attention into everypony's stories like they were the most riveting things he'd ever heard, just like Big Macintosh did. He even took big, slow bites and was very neat and tidy, same as Big Mac, and just as polite and quick to pass the plates around when anypony asked because he had a bigger reach.
Then there were Stouthoof and Shortcake. It had been years since Applejack had gotten to sit down for dinner with her parents. So long in fact that the memories of those days were somewhat fuzzy and faded, like an old photograph left out in the sun. But she still remembered the way her mother would serve everypony their dinner, the kindness and love in her voice when everypony complimented the meals. She still remembered the way her father, no matter how rough and tough he was out of doors, would gaze lovingly into his wife's eyes from across the table.
It was enough to make a grown mare cry.
And so that's exactly what she did.
Stouthoof, who was sitting at the head of the table next to her, was the first to notice the change. "Applejack? Everything alright?"
Applejack sniffed and did what she could to fight back tears, but it was a losing battle. "Y-yeah, I'm alright. Just got a… got a lil' somethin' in my eye."
"Oh dear, the food's not bad, is it?" Shortcake said, hoof to her mouth.
"No no, the food's… the food's wonderful. It's really… really good." She tried to tug her hat down a bit so that nopony would see, but then forgot she wasn't wearing it at the dinner table.
"Applejack, you don't need to hide anything from us," Flathoof said with a gentle smile. "We're all friends here, aren't we? If something's wrong, you can say it."
Applejack took a deep breath and nodded. "I… I miss my family. Seein' y'all here together just… it reminds me of 'em and… and I'm here, but they're someplace else and I'm worried about 'em and I just can't stop wonderin' if everythin's okay back home." She was rambling at this point and couldn't stop herself. "And they've got no idea what happened to me or anythin', and it's gettin' close to harvest time and I'm not there to help and—"
She sniffed again and looked at Stouthoof briefly, then looked away again. "An' y'all remind me of 'em so much that I… I just can't stop myself—"
Stouthoof set his hoof on her shoulder gently. "Hey, it's alright. It's alright." His hoof moved to her back and gave her a soft, reassuring pat. "It's perfectly natural to worry about your family. You don't need to feel embarrassed around us."
"Oh, the poor dear," Shortcake said as she got up from her side of the table to come over and pull Applejack in for a hug. "It's alright, Applejack, just let it out. We won't judge you. I can't imagine what you're going through…"
Applejack sniffed and nodded again as she hugged Shortcake back. The older mare's tight, warm hug felt really nice and affectionate, that kind of motherly affection that you couldn't get from just anypony. It reminded her so much of home, of things she missed now and things she'd been missing for years, of things she'd probably never have again.
She didn't even notice that while she was losing herself in that hug, the rest of the family had cleared the dinner table.
*****
"Sorry if I made things awkward…" Applejack said as she stood at the bus stop with Flathoof later that night.
He'd agreed to make sure that she made it back to her apartment okay, for which she was grateful. Normally she'd have argued that she didn't need anypony to foalsit her, but after what happened at dinner she didn't feel right being alone.
"Hey, don't worry about it, it's not your fault," Flathoof said, patting her shoulder. "You're in a tough situation here, Applejack, and I understand— we all understand that it's not easy being separated from your family like this. None of us really know what it must be like… but we understand it enough to want the best for you."
Applejack gave him a little smile, then turned to Gumshoe, who'd come along and would be catching the next bus after Applejack's. "So, uh… that was pretty lousy as far as first impressions go, huh?"
Gumshoe shook his head gently. "Not at all. I have family too, y'know? I know that if I was ever separated from them, I'd be worried about them and miss them all the same. It's a perfectly healthy thing, so don't feel bad about expressing how it makes you feel."
"Heh… thanks. You're alright, Gumshoe." She glanced at Flathoof briefly. "Take care of this kid, yeah? He's goin' places."
As the bus rounded the corner and prepared to unload its passengers and take on new ones, Flathoof turned to Gumshoe. "You gonna be alright getting home on your own, Cadet? You could come with us, and I'll make sure you get to your stop okay after dropping off Applejack."
Gumshoe gave him a short salute. "Thank you, but no thank you, sir. I can take care of myself just fine. I might still be a cadet, but I went through training, same as you did."
"Fair enough. In that case, I'll meet you at the precinct first thing tomorrow morning, then I can introduce you to the rest of Applejack's friends. Sound good?"
"I'm looking forward to it, sir."
As Applejack boarded the bus with Flathoof and they found a pair of seats that were close together—on opposite sides of the aisle, but close together—she couldn't help but think that even after what had happened, she was glad she'd joined the family for dinner. It might take some getting used to being in this other world so far from her family that she couldn't even contact them, but she was glad knowing that she had her friends with her, and that she had new friends to help get her through the experience.
Maybe these few weeks wouldn't be so terrible after all.
Chapter Nine: Couture
Rarity had ridden a chariot taxi many times in her life before now. It was always nice to be able to take a load off her hooves to get from one place to another, such as from her boutique to the outskirts of Ponyville to visit Applejack. Certainly some ponies considered it lazy to ride in a chariot when one was perfectly capable of walking, but there was usually a practical purpose to it as well, such as keeping a nice dress out of the dirt or when one had purchased too many things from the store—though there was no such thing as "too many", of course.
But she'd never ridden in an aerial chariot before, as in one pulled by pegasi. She knew they existed back home—Twilight had first arrived in Ponyville via a chariot pulled by pegasi royal guards—but they weren't exactly common for intracity travel, especially in a smaller village like Ponyville. Here in New Pandemonium, however, they were an absolute necessity. The crowded "buses"—whatever those were—didn't run into the Inner Districts, and since that was where Rarity needed to be today, an aerial chariot was the best option.
The Inner Districts were in such contrast to the rest of New Pandemonium, or at least what Rarity had seen of it so far, that she was certain she was in a completely different city altogether, and when she said as much to Lockwood, who sat beside her on this wonderful little trip, he'd agreed and even noted that she didn't really know the half of it yet.
If the Mid Districts were comparable to some sort of dingy, dirty, alternate version of Manehattan, the Inner Districts were comparable to a more modernized version of Canterlot, with tall, gleaming skyscrapers instead of palatial spires and cozy houses and businesses, pristine concrete streets instead of cobblestone roads, and electrical lanterns and signs instead of oil lamps and vinyl billboards. Otherwise they were quite similar: trees decorated the roads—fake trees, Lockwood assured her—and there were fountains, parks, and plenty of neatly-spaced businesses and residences so that everypony could be comfortable and content.
"This is simply… marvelous, Lockwood dear," Rarity said as their taxi slowly flew past a large office building, where she could see ponies in crisp suits working at desks and cubicles. "How in the world is there such a vast difference between these two parts of the city? It can't be just because these ponies have more money, can it?"
"That's pretty much the driving factor, yeah," Lockwood said with a nod. "Money, but also influence. Don't think that everypony that lives here in the Inner Districts is rich, though. Some just have really good connections with the right ponies and when you know certain folks, money isn't that important."
She raised an eyebrow at that. "Speaking from experience, perhaps? Considering the sorts of connections you seem to have, darling, why aren't you living here?"
"It's not my speed," he said simply. "I like it much better in the Mid Districts, thank you. I can get more work done there on a day-to-day basis. Not to mention that there are only so many contacts one can make if they restrict themselves to the Inner Districts, which is typically what's expected of folks who live here."
"Well then, I suppose as much as I would have liked for my little group to have landed here, where it's clean and neat, it would have probably meant not meeting you or Captain Flathoof, wouldn't it?"
"Oh, Flathoof for sure. You'd have been picked up by Inner District police, and they're a different beast altogether." With a little smile, he added, "But who knows, you guys might still have met me somehow. Depends on where exactly you ended up, really. The Baroque District—where we are now—would have been your best bet."
He then tapped Rarity's shoulder and gestured ahead of them. "Ooh, just ahead, there's our destination: La Torre Gloriosa. Neat, huh?"
As the chariot rounded another office building, Rarity followed Lockwood's hoof towards a massive tower they were approaching made of white concrete with metallic gold accents; the concrete had even been textured somehow so that it looked like genuine pearl, giving the structure the appearance of exquisite jewelry. It was one of the tallest buildings that she could see for miles around.
"My oh my," she said, a little grin on her face as the chariot began its descent. "You have friends who live here? That tower is simply magnificent. A true center of class and prestige if I've ever seen one. It could almost pass for a royal palace."
"And if all goes well, you'll be working here by the end of the day," Lockwood said with a smile her way. "And if I were a betting stallion, I'd put my bits on you any day of the week."
She smiled; he certainly knew how to make a lady feel good about herself, that was for certain. "These friends of yours, how did you come to know them? Forgive me for saying so, but you don't look like the sort of pony to be acquainted with ponies known for high fashion." To emphasize her point, she straightened his jacket collar, which had gotten crooked en route.
"A friend of mine once lived in this tower years ago, until he and his family moved away down south," Lockwood said; she detected a bit of sadness in his voice. "I was also friends with his wife, a well-known fashion model. She was the sort of mare that loved to share her wealth with others, and often held lavish fashion events for charity. I helped organize a few since I knew ponies that could help promote them.
"Well, at one of these parties, there were these two rival designers that were making waves in the fashion scene. Word was that they absolutely hated each other's guts, a real water and oil situation. Thing is, they'd never actually met." Lockwood grinned and tipped his hat. "Well, I'm the one who made sure they were both invited. I figured that two ponies shouldn't despise one another without knowing one another first.
"I wasn't expecting much, really. Maybe they'd meet each other and get a chance to see just who their rival was, and at best they wouldn't hate one another but they'd just go back to being rivals but maybe with a better understanding of each other. Well, let's just say that… a lot more than that happened."
Rarity grinned knowingly; she'd heard this sort of story before, but it was always charming to hear again, and it made for good information if she was going to know her potential employers. "Oh? Do tell. Don't skimp on the details, darling, I'm no prude. I love a good saucy story."
Lockwood coughed into his hoof. "Uh, suffice to say, my model friend caught the two of them in one of the changing rooms getting… better acquainted. Right on top of the dressing table, actually."
Rarity overdramatically fanned herself. "Oh ho ho, what a naughty couple. That sounds rather… exciting, actually. I take it though that that's not the end of the story?"
"Oh no. They got engaged three weeks later, then married by the end of the year. It was the talk of the fashion scene for months. They merged their fashion lines together right after the wedding and everything so that they could be together in every aspect of their lives."
"How romantic," Rarity said with a wistful sigh, hoping that someday she'd find somepony that would treat her with that same kind of passion. "I'm willing to bet that your model friend was pleased with these results. Did she ever model for their lines?"
"No, unfortunately. Their family moved about two months before the wedding. I'm sure she would've loved to, though," he said with a wistful look to the south.
The chariot taxi landed and Lockwood, ever the gentlecolt, helped Rarity out and onto solid ground. He passed a fair amount of bits to the pegasi drivers to pay for the ride plus a tip, and they nodded appreciatively before heading off.
Rarity noticed Lockwood staring up at the tower, a sort of faraway look in his eyes that usually was reserved for daydreaming. "Everything alright?" she asked, putting a hoof on his shoulder.
He smiled and shook his head. "Oh, it's nothing. I just haven't been here for a long time. Just thinking back on some of the good times I had here, and of friends I haven't seen in a while." He adjusted his hat and started for the door. "But we're not here to listen to me reminiscing about the past, are we? We're here to get you a job. Are you ready?"
She nodded and followed behind him towards the doors of the building, where a doorpony, a unicorn stallion. dressed in the same white and gold as the building briefly made to stop them. "Morning, folks. Welcome to—" That's when he noticed Lockwood, at which point he just gave a polite nod, and said, "Ah, welcome back, Mister Lockwood. It's been awhile, hmm?"
"Hey there, White Shield, long time no see. Still working the door at this dump, huh?"
"Of course. Best job I've ever had."
"How's the wife? Still trying to break into the jewelry business?"
The doorpony laughed. "Nope, changed her mind last year, decided she'd rather get into the watchmaking business. At least it's in the same ballpark this time. But hey, don't let me keep you out here." He then opened the door for Lockwood and Rarity to pass through. "Enjoy your visit."
Lockwood tipped his hat to the other stallion, while Rarity merely smiled and nodded; the doorpony politely tipped his hat to her and smiled as she walked in. From there, it was a straight trip to the elevator on the other end of the lobby. When the doors opened, Rarity was surprised to see that it was operated by yet another pony, this time a pegasus mare in the same snappy uniform as the doorpony.
"Which floor?" she asked with a smile. She also noticed Lockwood and gave him a brief nod. "Oh, Mister Lockwood. Long time no see."
"Indeed, Stormfront. Good to see you, and looking so trim as well. Floor ninety-two, if you would?" he said.
The operator pushed the corresponding button as soon as Lockwood and Rarity were aboard. Once the doors closed, the elevator immediately started upwards without even the slightest hint of friction; the ride was as smooth as silk, which surprised Rarity immensely. The elevator at the police station and the one at the hospital were both a little slow and jerky in their motions, and when they stopped it had been a rather sudden affair that had made her lose her balance. This elevator arrived at its destination in only about ten seconds and stopped so smoothly that when the doors opened, she hadn't even realized they'd come to a stop.
The hallway beyond the elevator was wide but not very long. She and Lockwood took a right turn at the first corner, and instead of a hallway Rarity found herself greeted with what was basically another lobby, similar to the one downstairs. A reception desk sat front and center, above which was a plaque bearing the logo of the company Lockwood had mentioned earlier, a pair of glimmering silver L's with one overlaid upon the other atop a red heart. The company's name was emblazoned below that: Lovers' Lane.
Lockwood stepped right up to the receptionist, a cordial smile on his face. The receptionist, a cute, bespeckled earth pony mare, gave him her own cordial smile in return. "Hello there," she said. "Welcome to Lovers' Lane. How can I help you?"
"Hi there. I believe I have an appointment scheduled for… well, now, actually," he replied, glancing at a clock on the wall. "Got here right on time, it looks like."
The receptionist glanced down at an appointment book, then hummed and nodded, tapping the top of the page. "And you are Mister Lockwood?"
"That's me," he said with a winsome smile.
"The bosses are waiting for you in the design room at the moment, and they told me to direct you there when you arrived." She gestured towards the hallway just off to the right. "Head down this hall, it'll be the second door on your right. Can't miss it."
"Thanks!"
Lockwood gestured for Rarity to follow, and led her down the hall to the second door on the right, which was indeed labeled "Design Room". Lockwood gave the door a light knock.
"Come on in!" called a feminine voice from the other side.
Lockwood opened the door, and he and Rarity were greeted with a room that made Rarity gasp in surprise and delight. It was every bit like her own dressmaking room back home, only more lavish and certainly a lot bigger. Dozens of ponyquins stood at rapt attention, several of them already clothed in dresses and suits that were, in Rarity's opinion, quite fetching. Other, finished outfits were already hanging on assorted racks along the side of the room, and drawers and racks of raw materials covered an entire wall.
Rarity felt like a foal in a candy store.
Standing next to a naked ponyquin was a lovely unicorn mare with a light pink coat and a purple mane which she wore long and wavy. She wore a simple black-and-white polka dot shirt and had a length of measuring tape draped over her neck. A pair of cat's eye glasses completed the image; she looked every bit like the professional Rarity imagined her to be.
Next to her was a handsome, older unicorn stallion with a light blue coat and a short, spiked orange mane with hints of gold, though it had flecks of gray throughout. He wore a loose-fitting white shirt with puffy sleeves and a long gray scarf that hung freely around his neck. He carried himself with a kind of casual professionalism that Rarity rarely saw in ponies in her field, but she knew that definitely didn't mean he wasn't good at what he did.
"Lockwood, darling!" the mare exclaimed sweeping towards him and kissing his left and right cheeks. "Oh my goodness, it has simply been much too long. I don't think we've seen you since the wedding." She turned to the stallion. "Right, dear? Not since the wedding?"
"He was there at the reception afterwards, at least, though if I recall correctly I think he had to leave early," the stallion said as he approached and shook Lockwood's hoof. "Good to see you, old sport. How are you doing these days?"
"Oh, you know, living it up as well as I can. Still landlord over at Southeast Point," Lockwood replied with a wide grin, which made the two share a look that hinted at a piqued interest. "I hear the company's been doing well since the merger? I see you even changed the name."
"It has indeed, quite wonderfully in fact. I know you don't read the fashion papers, but my darling wife's latest dress was on the cover of Dernier Cri. Quite an honor," the other stallion added, pulling his wife in for a hug and kissing her on the cheek.
"Oh, stop it," the mare giggled, batting his chest playfully with a hoof. "Always so quick to praise my accomplishments but not his own. Did you watch this year's PFTA show?" she asked Lockwood.
"I usually just read about the winners in the papers afterwards," Lockwood admitted. To Rarity he briefly explained: "Pandemonium Film and Television Awards. Biggest entertainment event of the year."
"Well, regardless, my gorgeous husband provided the suits for each and every stallion nominee. All of them custom-tailored and everything, right down to cufflinks. And yes, that includes the host, and from my understanding, Lucky Clover was the talk of the show."
"Oh, they're just suits, love," the stallion said, rolling his eyes. "You designed close to half the dresses at the whole event. Every shot of the audience had your name all over it."
"Not quite that many, but I appreciate the compliment." The two then looked lovingly at one another, lost in each other's eyes.
Lockwood leaned over to Rarity and whispered, "And remember, these two used to hate each other. Felt I needed to remind you."
Rarity tittered a little and whispered back, "Well, hate and love are just opposite sides of the same coin, aren't they? Seems they just needed to give it a little flip."
Lockwood cleared his throat. "Well, while I'd love to stay, my friends, I have business to attend to of my own today and I really must be getting back to it. Before I go, though, I think we should go ahead and get some introductions made around the room, hmm? It would be terribly rude of me not to get that ball rolling."
"Oh yes, of course," the mare said with a smile as she turned to Rarity. "This must be that wonderful new talent you discussed with me. Rarity, I believe you said her name was?"
Rarity nodded and daintily offered her hoof. "Yes, that's exactly right. Though I'm afraid Lockwood never told me either of your names, so I'm feeling at a dreadful disadvantage at the moment."
The mare gently took Rarity's hoof and gave it a soft, feminine shake. "Forgive me, where are my manners? My name is Chantilly Lace. It's certainly a pleasure to meet you." She gestured to her husband. "And this is my husband, Peaked Lapel."
Lapel took Rarity's hoof and delicately placed a brief kiss on her pastern; she giggled lightly, just out of habit. "Charmed."
"Lockwood tells us you're a fashion designer from down south?"
"That's right," Rarity agreed, since that was the story she and her friends were going with to strangers now, especially since she had a little more information to work with thanks to Winter Glow. "I'm new in the city, see, and Lockwood's been ever so helpful in giving me and my friends opportunities to integrate into the city's culture, strange as it is to our sensibilities."
"And that's why when she said she was a fashion designer, the first ponies I thought to get her touch with were you two," Lockwood finished. He removed his hat briefly, a grin on his face. "Now, I hate to just pop in and run and all that, but like I said, I have a very busy day ahead of me. Miss Rarity here isn't the only pony I promised to lend a helping hoof."
Chantilly smiled and pulled Lockwood over to kiss his cheeks again. "Go on then, darling, and don't be a stranger!"
Lockwood nodded then turned briefly to Rarity, tipping his hat and giving her a wink. "Have fun."
"I think I just might, Lockwood dear," Rarity said with a grin. "Go on now. And do keep an eye on Fluttershy for me, alright?"
"Will do." He turned to the married couple and waved farewell, replaced his hat, and strolled out the door, shutting it behind him.
"So, Miss Rarity, what say we get right into it, hmm?" Chantilly said, leading Rarity over to the ponyquin. "First, though, a bit of framework for what's going on around here. My husband and I are sponsoring an upcoming fashion show to showcase some new talent in the designing and modeling fields."
"It's actually a series of showcases over the coming two weeks or so," Lapel added. "The first one is coming up fairly soon. And, if how Lockwood described your skill is true, we think you might be the perfect fit to represent Lover's Lane. The timing is just impeccable."
"I'm honored that you'd give me that opportunity," Rarity said, surprised at the swiftness of their generosity. "What exactly did Lockwood say about me that led to that decision, if I might ask? We haven't known each other very long and I'll be honest, he's never seen any of my professional work."
She pawed at the makeshift dress she'd crafted out of confiscated clothes. "Nor do I think I'm making the best first impression of my fashion sense, but it's the only clothing I own at the moment. Just the result of a rather unfortunate set of circumstances."
"I can tell," Chantilly said as she eyed Rarity up and down briefly, lifting her glasses as she did. "That outfit was clearly quickly cobbled together from several other outfits; I can see the seam work that was definitely done in haste, without a machine, and then touched up later on."
"Not to mention that the choice of colors isn't quite right, but it was clear that an earnest effort was made," offered Lapel as he sauntered around behind Rarity. "Now, I don't know the exact circumstances that led to this mish-mash of an outfit, Miss Rarity, but I can tell that if you could've done better, then you would have."
Rarity gave a nervous grin, only a little embarrassed. "I certainly would have liked to, yes. I had no idea ponies up here in the big city were required to wear clothes by law, so I didn't pack anything with me, figuring that I'd craft a new ensemble later on or at worst purchase one."
"Absolutely dreadful, dear. I can't imagine what you must be going through. This is simply a crime against fashion," said Chantilly. "Tell you what, as a favor to a friend of Lockwood, whether you get the job or not today, I'll be happy to give you a Lover's Lace original to take with you."
Rarity balked. "R-really? You'd do that for me?"
Chantilly smiled. "Any friend of Lockwood's can't be too bad, and I can tell you're feeling woefully uncomfortable having to wear that thing around."
"I… thank you. That's awfully generous of you, and I appreciate it ever so much."
"Well then, let's not waste any more time, hmm?" Chantilly gestured towards the naked ponyquin. "You have free reign over our materials to put together an ensemble that impresses us, and because the industry is all about pressure, we'll note that the premiere for the showcase event is only in a few days, and we don't have the time to wait for inspiration to strike."
"You've got two hours to design a dress that meets our approval, then put it together," Lapel said, pulling a heavy stopwatch from his shirt pocket and clicking the top. "Starting… now."
Rarity gulped, but immediately set to work, first by browsing through the selection of materials she would have available to work with, almost all of which she was intimately familiar with and most of which she was surprised to see in such quantities. Cottons and silks were understandable, but the selection of gemstones and exotic materials they had was exquisite. Some of these things were incredibly rare and expensive back home.
She was used to working under pressure, of course, but not with such a suffocating restriction in place. She supposed she wasn't meant to show the couple something that they'd be putting on the show floor by tonight or anything like that, but rather that they just wanted to see what she could come up with on the fly, or maybe they'd be using this design for the showcase?
The industry was supposed to be rather cutthroat at times, where designers would accuse one another of stealing designs that they'd been working on for weeks or months, and that's where she figured the reasoning here was: if Rarity was clever and creative enough to put together something impressive with only an hour or two, then she could do even better with an entire day. That would be more than enough time to put out a bombshell design at a moment's notice, something that could blow away competitors unawares.
Yes, that sounded wonderful. She could handle that. She could thrive like that if she had the right motivation.
In less than thirty minutes, Rarity—working faster and harder than she'd ever done before—managed to whip up a design that was a rather simple modification of a similar dress—more of a jumpsuit, really—that she'd made for Sapphire Shores years prior: simple white polyester with a healthy dosing of rhinestones made of actual gems to give it a lustrous gleam.
She was glad that she didn't have to start putting it together yet, though, only having to show off the design itself at first, because she could tell immediately that her prospective employers were, to be blunt, unimpressed.
"The choice of polyester is rather unique, I'll admit," Chantilly said as she eyed Rarity's design drawing, "especially combined with this particular allotment of rhinestones. I also appreciate the consideration of genuine gems for the design rather than artificial ones; they'd catch the light nicely."
"Maybe so, but gemstone-studded affairs are dreadfully out of vogue at the moment," Lapel offered, shaking his head. "This particular design is also quite loud, if I might say so. It would definitely attract a lot of attention at a ceremony or a ball, or maybe a concert if that was your intention, but it might attract the wrong kind of attention. Too flamboyant, too theatrical."
"It could possibly fit with a sort of 'retro' appeal," Chantilly suggested.
"No, it's too soon for retro. Trying to bank on outdated styles too early would just make the wearer look horribly behind the times rather than evoking nostalgia."
Chantilly nodded, then turned to Rarity. "I don't think we can work with this sort of design, Miss Rarity. I'm sorry, but—"
Rarity tapped her chin in thought; she needed an excuse, and fast. "No no, don't be sorry, Miss Lace, Mister Lapel. I understand completely. You see, this ensemble was rather in vogue down south and I was unaware that it had already gone through the ringer as it were up here in the north. I'm terribly sorry, it's my fault for not researching the current trends.
"If I may, however, I still have plenty of time left to come up with another design to show you. Why, I didn't even use half of what you've given me just yet. But I feel that I'm at a bit of a disadvantage working with outdated information, so perhaps you could tell me what is in vogue at the moment? I'll whip something up in no time that follows the trend while bringing something new to the table, I promise."
Lapel hummed, then nodded. "Very well. It's only fair to give you a fighting chance. I forgot to account for the cultural divide."
"At the moment, the current trend is lace, leaning towards a more sultry feel," Chantilly explained. "I don't know if you get any films of ours down south, but a recent release with Bolt Rockhoof and Scarlet Sands is getting everypony in a tizzy. The mares go to see it for Rockhoof because he has this one nude scene where he's just… mmff!"
"And the stallions can't take their eyes off Scarlet Sands, as usual," Lapel added with a smirk. "That mare has to be extremely popular in colt locker rooms, let me tell you. I'd have a picture of her on my locker if I was still in school."
"Anyway, she's wearing this absolutely devilish lace dress in the movie poster," Chantilly continued. "So now that's the current hot trend for mares, and it probably will be for the next couple of weeks or so until the industry decides they're tired of it. I know I'm tired of it already, but hey, sex sells, what can I say?"
Rarity nodded. "A sultry lace dress, then? It's not my usual forte, but I can certainly work with that."
She then got to work back at the drawing table, sketching up the new design to fit this odd-but-intriguing trend. Strictly-speaking, ponies back home rarely wore clothes that were considered "sultry" by any means; if they did, it was just because somepony interpreted it that way, not because of a conscious decision that the designer had made. At least not that she knew; she'd certainly never designed anything of the sort.
Granted, there were a number of fashion items that were considered sultry, but those weren't things that ponies were supposed to be wearing in public places. Rarity certainly didn't own anything like that, no sir, and certainly didn't have them ready for a special occasion with a potential future beau.
The design Rarity came up with was actually rather simple, but carried her own signature style to it so that nopony could say it wasn't a Rarity Original, not that anypony would. She'd considered black lace at first, but decided that if sultry was the name of the game then black was much too pedestrian; red was where it was at in that case, but it wouldn't do to just make a red lace dress and call it a day. It had to have something unique, something special.
Thus, Rarity's dress was made of a thin red lace that left the wearer's back mostly exposed, only covering their chest, forelegs, and sides while also leaving their flanks half-covered. The lace itself would then be judiciously sprinkled with crushed ruby dust to give it a sequin-like shine. In her opinion, the outfit would work significantly better if it were made of satin instead, but she wasn't here to buck trends just yet.
When Rarity showed off her finished work to Chantilly and Lapel, though, she knew immediately that she'd completely reversed course, and that their opinions of her now were much, much better.
"Oh my goodness," Chantilly said as she eyed the design carefully. "This is… this is luscious. I love the cut of the dress: revealing enough to attract attention but covering enough to make lookers want even more. This is the sort of dress I'd expect to see on a singer at one of those late-night revues up in Whiteworth. Enticing, yes, that's the word."
"I'm loving the idea of using crushed rubies to substitute for standard sequins," added Lapel. "It makes the dress pop. If a mare walks into a room wearing this, there won't be a pony in that room that won't turn their head."
"Absolutely, dear, very sexy."
"But is it too sexy?" he asked, turning to his wife. "It might feel like too much 'costume' and not enough 'dress'. Would this be the sort of thing a regular mare could wear to a formal party?"
Chantilly hummed and nodded. "Too sexy, yes, but I think that's an easy fix. Don't you, Miss Rarity?" she said, giving Rarity a side-eyed glance.
Rarity smirked and nodded as well. "I wasn't sure how sultry would be too sultry, so I figured it would be better to err on side of more revealing rather than less, at least for the designing stage. I was thinking it could stand to be a bit longer so that it doesn't accentuate the flanks and hindlegs so much. The exposed back, however, is an absolute necessity."
"Absolutely, I couldn't agree more." Chantilly passed the design paper back to Rarity and gestured to the ponyquin. "So, your design work is impressive, but there's more to making dresses and suits than a drawing. With the rest of the time you have, you're going to put that dress together."
"Lace and I always put our own personal touch into every outfit we design," Lapel explained. "Not a single dress or suit, nor a blouse or shirt or skirt, has ever left this building without one of us putting a little bit of ourselves into the process. And when we got started, before we'd met properly, we did it all ourselves. No assistants."
"I understand completely, and I wouldn't have it any other way," Rarity said with a smile. "Every dress I've ever made, I made entirely with my own hooves and magic." Not entirely true, Rarity knew, since her friends had helped each other put together their proper Gala dresses from her designs, but that was a unique situation and had never been repeated.
"Then by all means, let's see you work," Chantilly said.
Rarity wasted no time whatsoever in grabbing all of the materials she needed to stitch together her latest and certainly sauciest Rarity Original, one that she was certain would never fly back home but which she was glad would be attracting attention here in this other world.
Every thread, seam, and cut she put into the fabric was utterly perfect; the lace bent to her will like an obedient servant, leaving no unsightly flaws or foibles as she manipulated it around the ponyquin's form; last, she applied a sprinkling of ruby dust over a thin layer of fabric glue and flash-dried it with a careful magical treatment.
And then the dress was done. Exactly as "ordered", so to speak, with all the changes needed to the original design to meet her clients' requests. Rarity had to admit, now that she could see the dress itself in its completed state, she actually rather wanted to wear it; if she put that number on when she went out to a fancy Canterlot party, she'd absolutely attract all sorts of attention.
Chantilly circled the ponyquin, humming to herself and examining every last inch of the dress for any signs of mistakes or imperfections, anything at all to comment on, and Rarity knew that she would find nothing and she indeed found nothing.
There was something about working under pressure that Rarity sometimes found extremely motivating; certainly she let it get to her sometimes when it was clear she wasn't going to make a deadline without working herself to near-death, but this whole situation put her straight into "the zone".
Lapel used his hooves to frame the dressed ponyquin like he was holding a camera. "Yeah… yeah, I can see it. This is fine work, Miss Rarity. More than fine; this is professional-grade fashion. Just look at the way that ruby dust shines. Not enough to blind somepony but enough to catch the eye. I love the way you've applied it to draw attention to the curves."
"Yes, it certainly accentuates the features of whatever mare would be wearing this," Chantilly agreed and she carefully eyed the ponyquin's posterior. "Again, not enough to be risqué, but enough to be pleasantly inviting and alluring to the eye. Suitable for any formal occasion, from a high school prom to a fancy dinner with a Committee Representative."
Rarity smiled. "So… you like it?"
Chantilly beamed. "Like it, dear? I love it. This dress— your dress, you, are absolutely going to represent Lover's Lane at the showcase, without question. Any objections, love?" she asked her husband as she came over to embrace him.
"Not at all, sweetheart, not at all," he replied, embracing her back and kissing her forehead. "This is going to make some waves, let me tell you." He turned to Rarity and grinned. "Miss Rarity, if this is something you just put together in a couple of hours with a metaphorical blindfold, I am eager to see what you can put together when you've got more time to plan and observe new trends."
Rarity put her hoof over her heart, and had to fight to hold back tears of joy. She was used to being complimented on her work, but typically most of her praise came from friends and family, or the occasional client who had so many specific requests that it felt like the creations weren't entirely her own.
This couple had known her only a couple of hours and were already praising her work like it was a gift from the heavens, and what's more, they were industry professionals looking to add her to a label that serviced a city of potentially millions of clients. A dream come true.
Now she just needed to hit on that same kind of luck when she got home.
Lapel broke from the embrace with his wife. "We'll get some paperwork filled out by the end of the day so that we can officially add you to the brand. You'll be a part of our new Rising Stars collection that we're introducing with the upcoming showcase." He offered her his hoof. "Welcome to Lovers' Lane, Rarity."
Rarity took his hoof and shook it. "I'm… I'm honored, Mister Lapel—"
"Oh please, you're a part of the family now, dear," Chantilly scoffed. "You can just call us Chantilly and Lapel, or Lace and Lapel if you're particularly fond of alliteration."
"Well, thank you very much, Chantilly, Lapel. I'm honored to be included in your prestigious fashion line. I've always dreamed of being able to sell my dresses in the big city, you know? This is… it's like a fantasy come to life for me, just shy of having my own label."
She let out a breath of content. "So, apart from this paperwork, what's next for us? You've already said that this dress here is being featured at the showcase, but that's a week away."
"Indeed, so for the most part, your role is done until showtime," Chantilly said as she took Rarity's leg under her own. "Mostly, anyway. But since this whole showcase of ours is such a new experience, you've still got one more task ahead of you."
"Which is?"
"Choosing a model for your dress, of course," Lapel said with a smirk. "Since you're the one who made the dress and are essentially headlining our Rising Stars collection, your opinion on the mare that models your ensemble is important to us. After all, a dress is just a bunch of fabric until somepony wears it, then it's a dress."
"Really? You want my help choosing a model?" Rarity asked. "Surely you two know your models better than I do and would be able to choose better than I ever could. I'd hate for your modeling staff to think I—some stranger—am imposing on them or questioning their looks and talent."
"Well, that's the thing," Chantilly said. "As part of the showcase, which I remind you is intended to promote new talent in the industry, a few of the labels got together and thought it might be fun if we try to promote new faces in the modeling sector as well. We're not using any of our veterans; fresh talent only!"
Lapel headed over to the door and opened it for the two mares as Chantilly started pulling Rarity along. "The time limit we gave you was mostly because we're scheduled to view the potential models shortly. If your dress was a dud, we'd basically be doing this in reverse, i.e. finding a designer to put together a dress for whatever model we hire, and she'd be part of the dressmaking process."
"Sounds a little experimental, if you don't mind my saying," Rarity noted with a nervous smile.
"Darling, that's what the fashion business is all about," Chantilly chuckled.
*****
"Next!" called Chantilly.
Rarity huffed and leaned back in her chair, and the latest in the collection of models was sent out of the little runway room to await the results of this audition while the next one entered.
The former mare, a thin little thing barely out of high school, strut her way out of the room; the newcomer, another thin little thing, though this one looked old enough to at least legally purchase alcohol, strut in with the exact same confidence and poise, and just generally with the same "aura" about her as every mare before.
They'd been at this for a couple of hours now; apparently quite a few mares had heard about the auditions and come by to try and break into the industry when given this golden opportunity. However, Rarity felt herself being uncharacteristically stubborn as she took part in the judging process.
Each and every mare that walked through those doors was practically identical. Oh sure, colors were different here and there, but that wasn't important in the long run, not unless the mare in question's coat or mane clashed terribly with whatever colors Rarity chose for a dress. And yes, they weren't all the same type of pony, but Rarity was always careful enough to make it so her dresses could be worn by earth ponies, unicorns, and pegasi alike unless she had a specific concept in mind.
But everything else about them was identical: their thin frames which lacked any sort of proper curvature to really highlight with a dress; their stuck-up attitudes that just sent up red flags to Rarity that they'd start questioning her choices eventually; their perfectly-practiced runway struts that said that the only thing that made these mares new to the industry was that they just hadn't been hired yet.
Worst of all, it was boring. Mares came in, they walked the runway, they left; rinse, repeat, ad nauseum.
"Next!" Chantilly called to usher in the next mare. She turned to Rarity and quietly noted, "We're almost done, dear. Anypony standing out so far?"
Rarity grunted. "I'm afraid not. That new dress of mine just doesn't suit any of these mares, not well enough to make me think it an ideal fit. I'll be honest, I designed the dress to fit a mare with a slightly fuller figure like mine. Very few mares where I'm from have such thin frames."
Lapel winced slightly. "Sadly, there aren't a lot of what the industry calls 'casual' models. It's just sort of ingrained in the modeling world that you've got to thin it to win it. Totally unrealistic but you try telling an industry that's been around for hundreds of years that they need to change their ways overnight."
"I've never agreed with the sentiment," Chantilly said, nose in the air. "It's not healthy for a mare to be so thin. Ivory Charm had some real curves, and she was tall and gorgeous." She sighed. "I suppose that's why she was so popular, really: she was different. A mare like that comes along once in a generation."
"Didn't hurt that her husband made sure she got her chance," Lapel added with a little grin.
"Ivory Charm… is that the modeling friend that Lockwood mentioned he was acquainted with?" Rarity asked.
"Oh, yes, they were quite close," Chanitlly said. "He was a friend of their family through and through. I don't know the whole story, but considering it's Lockwood that's involved I guarantee you that's it's a convoluted mess of coincidences, heh."
"Her husband was a big shot entrepreneur," Lapel added. He gestured towards the ceiling. "Lived up on the floor one-nine-nine, top of the tower, penthouse apartment. Absolutely gorgeous place. Just gorgeous. The pool was huge."
"Why ever did they move away?" Rarity asked.
The couple shared a brief look, then shrugged.
"Can't rightly say," said Lapel, "but Lockwood probably knows more than anypony. Ask him if you're curious."
He then looked and pointed at his wife. "Back to our discussion: I agree with you. I think we're missing out if we hired just another model for this showcase. I'm all about promoting new talent, but I feel like hiring one of the girls we've seen so far would basically just be pushing along the industry stereotype. Might as well put one of the vets out instead if we're gonna do that."
"Next!" called Chantilly.
The last mare on the stage strutted her way off the runway and left the room, and the next mare walked in with the same… no, Rarity noted, not the same poise at all. This new mare, a charcoal-colored unicorn with a mane that she hesitated to call "blonde" for it was really more of a lemon yellow, walked into the room like she'd done so completely by accident, lost like a filly that had misplaced her mother.
Like the other mares she had on a simple leotard that would show off her figure, and Rarity immediately noticed that this new mare was exactly what she was looking for. If she didn't know better, this mare's measurements were practically the same as her own, which is to say, she had a gorgeous figure with just the right amount of curves to draw attention to just the right areas.
Also, unlike the other mares thus far, this one clearly had no idea what she was supposed to be doing here. Rarity understood that the models had all been instructed on how to give their brief demonstrations: walk in, strut to four marked spaces on the runway—stopping to pose at each one, of course—then walk towards the exit, only stopping if asked to do so, which thus far nopony had been.
This mare walked in and strutted herself up to the runway in what was best described as somehow confident waddling, but stopped at the first marker and stared at the other three like she had no idea which order she was supposed to go in despite the clear-as-day labels. She started off toward the wrong one for about half a step before realizing her mistake, then stepped towards the other wrong one instead and almost made it all the way there before she tripped on nothing at all.
It was like watching a trainwreck; Rarity couldn't take her eyes away.
"I have no words for what I'm watching," muttered Chantilly as the mare on the runway stumbled to her hooves and nervously finished making it to the wrong marker, where she not so much twirled as spun.
"I have one," offered Lapel. "Disaster. Just get her out of here, honey."
"Hold on a moment," Rarity said, raising a hoof. "Don't discount her just yet. She has the exact figure I'm looking for."
"She does?" Lapel asked, glancing back at the mare
She was now strutting her way towards the next marker—wrong again—with the same sort of grace that one expected of a rhinoceros in ballet shoes. However, the way she was unashamedly moving her flanks in the process, shaking them to and fro without a care in the world, seemed to give Lapel pause.
"Hmm… she's got the posterior for it," he muttered. "The dress will make those curves pop for sure."
"And I'm all for hiring a mare that knows how to eat more than one meal a day," Chantilly huffed, "but the poor thing doesn't look like she could find her way out of a wet paper bag. Regardless of her having the kind of figure we're looking for, there are still expectations that do need to be met."
"Yeah, not being able to do the standard runway strut is kind of a deal-breaker," Lapel agreed.
Rarity frowned as she watched the mare on stage strut her way back to the same marker she'd just left, a smile on her face that told everypony in the room that she was having the time of her life, or else that she was completely oblivious to the fact that she was performing horribly. It was the sort of innocence that you just didn't see in a mare her age.
But Rarity wasn't about to let things end there. If the only thing this poor mare had wrong with her was being able to walk a runway, that wouldn't be hard to fix.
So she stood from her seat and made for the stage.
"Rarity? Where are you going?" Lapel asked.
"To help the poor dear," Rarity replied, giving him a polite smile. "It's only fair we judge her on the same standards as everypony else, and she clearly lacks the training the others have."
Since neither Lace nor Lapel objected, Rarity continued to the stage and approached the mare, just as she performed a not-too-shabby twirl too many times and fell over. Rarity was amused to see that it didn't stop the other mare from getting right back up and trying again. "Miss? Excuse me a moment."
The other unicorn nearly jumped at Rarity's presence and turned to face her, at which point her eyes widened in what Rarity could only describe as—and no, this wasn't her being narcissistic—sheer awe. "Wow…" the other mare uttered, breathless. "You're, like, really pretty up close and junk."
Rarity's smile widened a bit. "Well thank you, that's a very nice thing to say. What's your name, dear?"
"My name's Insipid," the other mare said, standing at attention and giving a smile of her own.
Rarity noticed that her teeth weren't quite straight, but in the sort of charming imperfection sense, rather than the sense of her being in need of an immediate visit to the dentist. Then she noticed the mane, which was such a strong yellow hue that it was though the mare had tried to dye it with paint. Her nose was just a little crooked, but like her teeth it was a cute imperfection.
Her eyes, though, were absolutely beautiful, the same shade of blue as Rarity's own and without a hint of a flaw to be seen. If anything hers were even healthier; this mare definitely didn't need glasses for any reason whatsoever.
The name was an odd point, of course. Insipid. That was a straightforward word, much like Rarity's own name was, only… not as flattering. Insipid literally meant "bland, otherwise lacking of interesting or distinctive qualities". Given that the other mare was possibly… lacking in certain departments, Rarity had to wonder if she'd been named after the word, or if she'd embraced her namesake and adjusted herself to fit it.
Rarity didn't know which was worse.
Regardless, she'd come to help this poor dear with something that she very clearly wanted to do very, very much. "Well, Insipid, my name is Rarity, and if you don't mind my saying so, I think you could use some help with your runway strut."
"My what?"
"Your runway strut." Rarity watched as Insipid didn't react at all, as if Rarity had been speaking total gibberish. "Your… your walk? The way you walk on the runway?"
"Ohhh. You mean my strut. I thought you, like, said something else. What's wrong with it?"
"You're doing it all out of order, for one thing." Rarity gestured at the markers in the proper order, easy to do since they were labeled in clear, bold lettering. "One, Two, Three, Four. You sort of went One, Three, Four, Three, and have been stuck on Three trying to twirl for about a minute now."
"And that's, like, wrong?"
"…yes. That's wrong." This was harder than Rarity thought it would be.
"Ohhh." Insipid nodded and smiled. "Okay! So, like, do you want me to try it again and junk?"
"Yes, that would be wonderful. Go on, head back to One."
Insipid stepped over onto the Two marker.
Rarity's eye twitched a little. "No… no, dear, that's Two, not One."
Insipid looked down at the writing and rolled her eyes. "Oh, pshaw, it was upside-down! Like, whoops! Okay, back to One!" This time, she did indeed go back to One. Progress. "Okay, ready!"
"Okay, now… follow the order I told you: One, Two, Three, Four."
Insipid bit her tongue and stared at the four markers, then nodded and, now that Rarity had apparently drilled it into her head properly, she was able to follow the correct order without any trouble. She still walked like she had something uncomfortable stuck in her leotard and bobbed her butt up and down with every step, but it was a start. A very… very slow start.
"That was very good, Insipid," Rarity said with a genuine smile. "Now that you've got the order correct, we just need to work on how you're walking. Have you had any proper modeling training at all?"
"Nope! I don't even know what that is!" the other mare exclaimed with misplaced pride. "Isn't that, like, a thing ponies ride on? Training?"
Rarity blinked, and bit her tongue, resolving to keep to a positive attitude. "If you've never received training—that is, learning how to act as a model—then why are you here applying for a modeling position? No offense, dear, but even with the standards that most folks hold models to, I've got a feeling you're overshooting a little bit."
Insipid's eyes widened as she looked off wistfully at nothing in particular, like she were practicing for a play. All she needed was a spotlight. What on earth was wrong with this mare?
"For as long I can remember," Insipid started, "I've, like, wanted to be a totally beautiful fashion model! Cha! So when I heard there was, like, a tryout thingy here to find new models or whatever, I said to myself, 'Self! You know what you've gotta do!' and so… I did… whatever that was? I forgot what I did, actually." She shrugged. Of course she did.
"Don't you have to have to have some sort of modeling experience or training to even qualify for the position?" Rarity asked, turning towards Lace and Lapel, who each just gave a little shrug.
"I mean, like, I dunno? But my daddy said that he'd get me the audition, and so… I guess he did, because here I am!" Insipid said, beaming. "He knew I wanted it, and, like, he wanted to make me happy, so he did it! I guess I've gotta pass a test or something first though? Ooh! Is that what this is? Is this the test? Did I pass?!"
Rarity blinked again. This mare was… well, bizarre was the politest word Rarity wanted to think of at the moment, but she was so earnest and eager that she couldn't help but feel sorry for her. If this were any other day, Rarity might've said that the poor girl would have better luck trying to pursue some other dream, but all things considered—
"Lace? Lapel?" she said, turning towards the couple. "If it's alright with you, I'd like to have Insipid here be the model we use for the new line."
Lapel dropped his pen, his eyes wide, as though he'd been given life-changing news by his doctor. "What?"
"You're serious?" Chantilly asked, completely deadpan.
"Quite serious, yes," Rarity replied.
"Rarity, far be it from me to argue against whatever sentimentality you might have for her, but Lovers' Lane has a reputation to uphold," Lapel said, his voice just a little frantic. "We can't just hire her because she's some sort of charity case, or whatever it is that's gotten into your head."
"On the contrary, I think she's perfect for the job. This isn't out of any kind of charity, I legitimately think she can work. Just look at her." Rarity pulled a still-beaming Insipid over and gestured at the other mare's figure. "See? You said it yourself, Lapel: she's got all of the assets we need to make that dress pop."
Chantilly chuckled and gently nudged her husband. "She's right, you did. And don't lie, I've been watching you ogling her ass the whole time she's been up there. Kind of hard not to with the way she's been shaking it. I mean, I know I have."
Lapel held the bridge of his nose in his hoof. "Honey, please don't tell me you agree with this?"
Chantilly shook her head and looked to Rarity. "I'm not sure this is a good idea, Rarity. Okay, I'll grant you that Miss Insipid here would probably look like absolute dynamite in that dress of yours, but there's still the matter of her not having any training on how to walk a runway, and we don't have time to wait for her to take the proper courses."
"She won't need to take any courses. I can help her with whatever she needs," Rarity said, stamping her hoof gently on the runway.
"That's a rather bold statement," Lapel said, eyebrows up; he obviously was holding back any semblance of doubt in his voice, but Rarity could tell he didn't buy her claim at face value. "Do you know how to walk a runway yourself?"
Rarity didn't say a word, just stepped onto the One marker, and silently strutted her way around to Two, Three, and Four, giving a little twirl at each one as expected. She may have never gotten her chance to model for Photo Finish way back when, but she'd certainly practiced for it and watched Fluttershy on the runway at every single show, so she damn well knew what she was doing.
Lapel remained silent for a moment after Rarity finished, then leaned back in his chair. "Okay. Fair enough, point made. If it weren't against the rules, I'd suggest you model your own dress. Wow. Don't take this the wrong way, but if I weren't married—"
Chantilly scoffed. "Get in line. I saw her first, honey. Besides, I mean, we're hosting the showcase. We can always adjust the rules."
"No!" Rarity blurted, perhaps too quickly. "Don't get me wrong, I'd adore the opportunity to model my own dresses for hundreds or thousands of ponies to see, but I'm making a case here for Insipid. I know how to walk a runway; I'll teach her how to do it perfectly by showtime. I made the dress, too, so I know how best to instruct her to work it, hmm?"
Chantilly leaned forward, hooves under her chin. After a long pause, she gave a slow nod. "Alright. Lockwood vouched for you as a reliable, talented pony, so if anything I'm willing to give you a chance."
Rarity just about let out a cheer.
"But!" Chantilly interrupted. "But, allow me to remind you that this showcase is your big break. Both of you. If you blow it out there, you're done. Lover's Lane will find some other new talent for the next showcase after that, and I doubt any other labels will give either of you an opportunity to try again."
Rarity nodded. "That is absolutely fair. We won't let you down." She turned to Insipid. "Will we, dear?"
Insipid just smiled and nodded. "I have no idea what anypony's talking about, or whatever? Did I, like, get the job?"
Rarity took a moment to breathe as she came to terms with the fact that her entire career—albeit one in some other world—now relied on Insipid's performance.
This was going to be a long week.
Chapter Ten: Compassion
Fluttershy normally lived all alone at home with nobody but her animal friends for company, most of all her precious Angel Bunny, so she wasn't used to waking up to the sounds of other ponies going about their morning routines. She'd been the last one to awake and felt more than a little odd waking up and finding the apartment in a flurry of activity as everypony set about their first "official" day here in this new world.
Applejack and Twilight had already left by the time Fluttershy was up, and Pinkie and Rainbow had left soon after. That left her with just Rarity for about an hour before Lockwood came to pick her up to head off into the city's ritzy Inner Districts.
Now she found herself all alone in an apartment she was still getting used to in a building filled with ponies she didn't know in a filthy city where she didn't feel safe for even a second. Lockwood was supposed to be coming back later after he'd dropped off Rarity, but that would be some time from now, and so she set about tidying up the apartment for real.
She briefly considered occupying some of her time with that "teevee" they had in the living room, but decided against it. They'd watched some of it the night before, and from what she'd seen there wasn't anything worth watching; the news seemed to be nothing but negativity, and other programs were either too violent, crude, or racy for her tastes.
Best to start working, then, she thought.
There weren't really any dishes for her to worry about, what with everypony's breakfast coming out of these little squeeze tubes. She wasn't fond of these odd fake foods anymore than the rest of them, but she'd make due with them for now.
Thus, she was left to organize a few things to make the place feel more like a home than a hotel. She arranged the kitchen so that the Dolor tubes were all sorted properly, with half of each of the six colors stored in cabinets, the other half of each stored in the refrigerator. The rest of the fridge was stocked with bottled water so that they didn't have to use the tap.
Lockwood had been very generous in getting them these things, and though they all hated asking for favor after favor, he was so amenable that nopony could really argue when he insisted on it. It wasn't often that Fluttershy met somepony so generous and kind outside of her own close circle of friends, and she had started to grow to enjoy his company, at least so far.
The apartment only had two bedrooms, one of which was being shared by Twilight and Applejack, the other by herself and Rarity; Pinkie and Rainbow took the living room's couch, which Fluttershy knew had to be uncomfortable. Even so, that meant that the living room area was essentially Pinkie and Rainbow's "room", and Fluttershy tidied that up first, which was rather easy.
Twilight and Applejack's room was also easy enough to tidy up. She noticed that they'd clearly come to some sort of arrangement on how to share the bed, which was really too small for more than one pony; a pillow on the floor told Fluttershy that one of them had slept there, but there was no telling who. She straightened the sheets, folded up the blanket that had been on the floor, and did her best to arrange the furniture so that whoever had been using the floor had more room.
Her and Rarity's room was easier to tidy up, as both she and Rarity were still sleepers that didn't toss or turn whatsoever; the bedsheets were barely wrinkled and took no time at all to straighten, and the pillows took no effort to fluff and position neatly. She didn't mind sharing the bed with Rarity; she'd never forgive herself if her best friend had to sleep on a hard floor while she got to sleep in a relatively cozy bed.
The apartment's singular bathroom was where Fluttershy spent the most time tidying up. Everypony had gotten their own toothbrushes—again, a favor from Lockwood—but apart from herself, Rarity, and Twilight, they'd forgotten to be even remotely neat about it. Not that it was messy, but it wasn't exactly presentable, as Rarity would put it.
Little strands of hair from everypony's mane hairs were in the sink, seeing as they'd all brushed their manes in here, so she gathered it up and tossed it in the trash. The soap dispenser wasn't where it was supposed to be, so she put it back in its proper place. The hoof towel was crumpled up, so she folded it and replaced it on its rack.
It was a little over an hour before a knock at the front door drew Fluttershy's attention. She glanced through the little peephole to see that Lockwood had returned, and so she opened up to let him inside.
"Welcome back," she said with a smile. "Did everything go okay with Rarity?"
"Wonderfully. I've got a feeling she'll do just fine," Lockwood said, removing his hat to fan himself briefly as he looked about the room. "So, I know this is obviously a little early to be asking, but how are you liking it here so far? I know it's not the same as where you're from and all, but hopefully things aren't too terrible."
"Oh, I think things will be just fine," she said with a small nod. "Um… I know that I'm still a little frightened by all this, especially… especially the times when I'm alone here. I miss my cottage. I miss my animal friends…"
Lockwood frowned. "I'm awfully sorry this happened to you all. None of you deserve to be in this situation. If there's anything I can do to help make your time here more pleasant, I'll be happy to do it. You only need to ask. Okay?"
She sniffed back a brief sensation of tears, then smiled and nodded. "Thank you. I know we've said that a lot already, but… thank you. I appreciate everything you've done for me and my friends. We all do. We'd… we'd be in a lot of trouble if we didn't have ponies like you and Flathoof to help us."
"And you're very welcome, Fluttershy." He replaced his hat on his head. "Now, I was just coming up here to check up on you before I headed off to do my rounds through the complex, but… I was wondering, seeing as you're still feeling a bit uncomfortable being alone and all, would you like to come along?"
"Come along?"
"Yes, walk the complex with me while I'm on my rounds. I'll be visiting with a few of the other tenants who live here in order to address some issues and complaints. Nothing too difficult, luckily. It would at least give you a chance to meet some of your 'neighbors', so that maybe you don't feel entirely alone up here."
Fluttershy considered the offer for a moment. On one hoof, he had a good point: she didn't want to be here alone. Since there wasn't a lot to do in the apartment just yet, at least until they started having the bits to afford new decorations, furniture, and supplies, there wasn't much to occupy her time, either. She'd be alone pretty much the entire day unless somepony came home early.
On the other hoof, the thought of meeting even more ponies from this strange world made her feel a little anxious. Certainly not everypony here was like Lockwood, Flathoof, or Winter, and she'd been led to believe that those three were in the minority by far. Lockwood felt brave enough to interact with them, but could she do the same?
In the end, though, the former argument won out; spending more time in Lockwood's company definitely seemed like the more enjoyable idea. "Okay," she said with a nod. "I'll go along with you, if… if you're sure you want me along?"
Lockwood smiled. "I do, absolutely! I wouldn't have asked if I didn't think you'd enjoy yourself. Whenever you're ready, we can head out. I've got plenty of time, so don't feel rushed."
She took a deep breath. "I'm ready now, if that's okay with you?"
"Then off we go!" he said, bowing politely by the door and gesturing for her to exit the apartment. "After you."
She smiled and headed out the door, thinking to herself how nice it was to have a stallion with such a pleasant demeanor around. There was just something about him that she found fascinating, but she couldn't put her hoof on it. It didn't really matter what it was, though; all that mattered was that he was putting in a lot of effort to help those in need.
*****
The stops along Lockwood's rounds through the apartment were rather quick affairs for the most part, mostly just brief exchanges between him and whatever tenant he was meeting and usually over details that Fluttershy didn't really understand since she'd never dealt with any of those sorts of things before. She understood what the concept of "rent" was and what a landlord was supposed to do, but since she owned her cottage in Ponyville, she wasn't exactly an expert on the subject.
A few tenants had issues a bit more complicated than that, of course, and Fluttershy watched with rapt attention as Lockwood, who she was used to seeing as a friendly, generous, polite pony, continued to be friendly, generous, and polite even to tenants that were quite the opposite. Even when she could tell he was growing impatient or aggravated, he kept his cool, and even his most impolite tone was still more polite than what she expected from somepony in his horseshoes.
He has the patience of a saint, she thought.
One pair of tenants, who lived on floor ninety-seven, were complaining about their air conditioner not working. Fluttershy didn't know what an air conditioner was, exactly, but came to understand from the context of the conversation that it was like some kind of fan that kept the apartments cool.
"It's been out for weeks now!" shouted the husband of the pair, a burly earth pony stallion that, in Fluttershy's opinion, was in desperate need of a shave and a bath. "What're you gonna do to fix it, huh?"
Lockwood, a smile still plastered on his face, just removed his hat and placed it over his heart. "My good Mister Slate, I assure you, your first reported instance of your air conditioner not working was put in two days ago, and I told you yesterday when I dropped by that the technician will be arriving tomorrow to take a look at what's wrong. I don't understand why you're bringing this up again."
"Because it's ridiculous, that's why! So what, are we just supposed to suffocate to death in this heat? You heard the news about the fires; they told everypony to keep their AC on full blast."
"Yeah, this is a serious health hazard!" complained the wife, a scrawny thing that, in Fluttershy's opinion, was much too young for the other stallion, and given their similar facial features and colorations could probably pass for his daughter. "I think we deserve compensation for being put at risk!"
"Missus Sweet, that health warning was for the districts affected by the fires, which would be Mid-North and Mid-East," Lockwood patiently explained. "And Mid-North is supposedly contained as of today, last I heard of it. Southeast Point is quite far from the fires, so that health warning doesn't apply to us."
"So?" asked the husband.
"So, there's nothing I can legally do to compensate you as far as rent is concerned. However, since you're saying that the issue has been ongoing and wasn't properly addressed, I can try to work out some kinks in the paperwork so that at least you won't be billed for the repairpony's rush visit."
The husband gave Lockwood a hard look for a moment, then grunted. "Alright. Fine. What do we do in the meantime? It's hotter than hell in here. Look at me!" he said, pulling on his sweat-drenched tank top. "You could drown a foal with the amount of sweat I've been giving off."
Lockwood hummed. "Might I suggest using the community pool at the rec center? It doesn't get a lot of crowds in the Winter Quarter, so you might get lucky and have it mostly to yourselves. I recommend the third floor pool, myself."
The wife pawed enthusiastically at her husband's chest. "Ooh, that sounds nice, honey. I can try out that new swimsuit I got."
"That the one with the uh… y'know?" the husband asked, his cheeks a little red.
She just nodded, waggling her eyebrows a little.
"Yeah, the rec center pool sounds nice," the husband said to Lockwood. "Is it still free for tenants here to use?"
"Yes it is, with identification."
"Well alright, guess we'll give it a shot, then."
"Good, good. Have fun, you two." Lockwood then replaced his hat, nodded, and left as the couple closed the door behind them. "Well, that could've gone a lot worse," he said to Fluttershy as he approached. "Luckily they mentioned the health warning from the news and such. I can cite that on the paperwork to ease this whole thing through; there are a few loopholes I can work out if health concerns are an issue."
"Lockwood, um… what exactly is your job here?" Fluttershy asked as they headed down the stairs towards the next apartment on his list.
"What do you mean? I'm the building's landlord," he said, raising an eyebrow.
"I know that, yes, but from what I understand, doesn't that mean you're only responsible for dealing with rent issues? I mean, at least that's what it's like where I'm from. This seems a bit, I don't know, above and beyond what's expected of somepony in your position?"
He smiled. "Ah. Well, I suppose you could say that it is, yes. The building does have a superintendent whose job it is to handle issues like repairs and such, but he and I have come to a sort of… agreement, let's say. I handle all of the face-to-face interactions with tenants and put in all of the paperwork, while he handles the actual allotment of labor and resources."
"Why would he make such an arrangement?"
"Oh, any number of reasons. Perhaps he thinks I'd just do a better job interacting with ponies? Before the building came under new ownership a few years ago, I used to assist the old superintendent with the same sorts of things, so it's not like it's strange to me. The old owner never had a problem with it."
"And the new owner doesn't, either?"
He shrugged. "If he does, he hasn't said anything to me about it yet, and since the building is still pulling in a profit I don't think he will. Something particularly drastic would need to happen to shake things up, I think."
"Like, say… six tenants didn't pay their first month's rent because they mysteriously vanished?" Fluttershy asked, eyes wide.
Lockwood paused, then cleared his throat and tugged his collar. "So anyway, this next tenant—"
"Lockwood, are you going to get in trouble when we leave?" she asked, stopping in the stairwell for a moment.
He just smiled and kept on walking. "I doubt it, but if I do, we'll just chalk that up to a first strike against me, hmm? Everypony makes mistakes, you know? What's one month's rent from a four-pony apartment compared to the continued responsibility of the rest of the complex?"
"But—"
"Come now, don't worry about little old me," he said, stopping in the stairwell to gently take her hoof and give it a reassuring pat. "If everypony I knew worried about every little crazy thing I do to help those in need, I daresay I could make a killing on anxiety medications. I deal with that enough from Flathoof, thank you very much."
"If you're sure—"
"I'm sure. Trust me, Fluttershy, I'll be just fine. I'm saving up money to make the big move south by this time next year, so even if something did happen, it wouldn't be that drastic. I'll make due."
Fluttershy paused, then nodded. "Okay… if you say you're going to be alright…"
"See? Now, let's not waste time in this stuffy stairwell talking about nothing important, hmm?" He gestured for her to follow. "We've got plenty more stops on today's tour, and we want to finish them all in time for lunch, don't we?"
Fluttershy followed, and they continued up and down the stairs, visiting apartment after apartment and dealing with more and more tenants, some of whom were again quick and easy to deal with—Lockwood was just reminding certain tenants about the rent payments being due soon—while others had more complicated issues beyond just broken air conditioners.
A lone tenant in a single-pony apartment, for example, was complaining about a smell coming from somewhere in the apartment, and despite Lockwood having apparently sent somepony to look at it and take care of it multiple times, the smell kept coming back, worse every time. Fluttershy could just barely detect the smell herself, but she recognized the pungent, musky odor as—
"Rat poop?" asked Lockwood when she made the suggestion.
She nodded. "I deal with all kinds of animals back at home. The rats I usually take care of are cute and cuddly critters, but… but sometimes, I'd see less friendly ones come out of the nearby Everfree Forest. They had a very distinct odor to them because they don't bathe properly and aren't very, um… sanitary. Lots of ponies think they carry disease."
"Well, we don't have any animals up here in the north, so I know it's not an actual rat infestation," Lockwood said, stroking his chin. "But that means that something is causing that smell, and it's not a problem with the plumbing." He turned to the tenant. "I'll have to put in a request for pest control. They most likely decide to fumigate the place."
The tenant, a scruffy, older pegasus stallion with a thick, bushy mustache, gave a terse nod. "If that's what you gotta do, sure. What's that mean for me, though? I can't be here if they're gonna fumigate my place."
"If you don't have any friends or family that can take you in, I can put in some kind of workaround to get you a hotel while the fumigation is ongoing," Lockwood replied. "I can't promise anything fancy, but I can at least make sure you've got a safe place to sleep."
"Hmm…" The tenant bristled his mustache. "Sounds good to me. Keep me posted, Lockwood."
"Will do, Scruffy."
With that, the tenant closed the door and left Lockwood and Fluttershy alone in the hall.
"If it's not rats, what is it?" Fluttershy asked. "It can't be some other sort of critter. You said yourself there aren't any animals up north."
"Animals, no; insects, yes." Lockwood sighed. "Nothing as bad as those Gargantuans outside the city walls, but we still get plenty of nasty pests in the city sometimes. Supposedly, anyway. We shouldn't be getting them in the Mid-Districts. It's more of a problem in the Outer District slums."
Fluttershy frowned as she tried to think of what kinds of insects could even remotely cause the same sort of odor as the Everfree rats. Cockroaches, maybe? She usually loved all sorts of animals and insects, but even Fluttershy could acknowledge that some were definitely not considered the cute-and-cuddly sort that anypony could learn to love if given a chance; there was a big difference between a cockroach and a bear.
And another thing, if they dealt with cockroach infestations out in the Outer Districts, just what did that say about the living conditions out there? Fluttershy had come to understand that the city's outermost residential areas weren't exactly the best quality—she'd heard them referred to as slums and ghettos—but just how bad were they?
After dealing with a few more problem tenants, Lockwood showed Fluttershy into his actual office on the complex's main floor. She was surprised that the office was so cramped considering that his apartment was allegedly rather spacious, but then she supposed he wasn't in here much anyway aside from dealing with paperwork. Apart from a desk and a pair of chairs for him to do his work and maybe meet with a tenant, there was just a big filing cabinet that apparently kept track of every tenant in the building.
Lockwood was quick with the paperwork, too, filing through form after form with the sort of speed that she expected of a unicorn with magic, not a pegasus. He didn't ask her for any help, but she did offer, and at her insistence—she felt that was basically his assistant for the day at this point—he allowed her to lend a hoof in putting stamps on a few forms once he was done filling them out.
It felt nice, being useful for something, even if it was something that he was more than capable of doing himself. That had been her concern when she'd learned that she and her friends would be stuck here for a while: that she'd be worthless. Her other friends all had talents and skills and interests that could help them occupy themselves and even make money doing; what did Fluttershy have?
She never wanted to be in the public eye again, not after the fiasco with Photo Finish; without any animals, she didn't have her special talent to lend to anything; she liked to sing, but even if Lockwood could help her do something with that, the last thing she wanted was for millions of ponies to listen to her singing; maybe she could foalsit but she preferred to know the ponies she was foalsitting for, and the ponies she was foalsitting.
So yes, being Lockwood's assistant for a few weeks and taking care of the apartment for her friends just felt… nice. She could live with that.
Once the last form was filled out, stamped, and placed into the outgoing receptacle by the office door, Lockwood took a breath, fanned himself with his hat, and allowed himself a moment to rest. "Thanks for the help, Fluttershy," he said with a grin. "You know, I might just hire you on as my official assistant if you keep this up."
Fluttershy blushed and shook her head. "Oh, you don't have to do that. I'm just happy to help for its own sake. Your job seems very stressful, and you're doing so much for me and my friends. It's the least I could do to repay you for your kindness and generosity."
He shook his head and smiled. "Well, if you insist on helping me out pro bono, fine, I won't refuse the offer. I've never had an assistant before, let alone a nice mare like you. I think you're spoiling me."
She hid her face behind her mane. "Th-thanks…"
He replaced his hat on his head. "Well, I have one more stop to do, and then I was going to take a lunch break. Care to join me?"
Her eyes widened. "F-for lunch?"
"Well, I was asking more about joining me on my last stop for the day, and was going to save the lunch invitation for later," he said with a grin.
"I… s-sure, I'll go. To both, I mean. What's this other stop we're making?"
Lockwood pulled a file out of the cabinet and gave it a once-over. "We had some new tenants move in this morning, apparently before I even woke up. Usually I like to greet new tenants before they move in to get a feel for the kinds of ponies they are, but I guess this was an unusual circumstance."
"Like ours?"
"Well, not exact—" He started to say. Then, he paused, scratched his chin, and nodded. "Actually, it is a little similar. They lived in an apartment out in the Mid-East District that got hit by the fires. Half the city is likely getting all sorts of requests for residence transfers and such just like this one. Luckily we had an opening."
"So… these ponies are living here because something happened to their home," Fluttershy said, putting the connection together. "How awful. I mean, I know my friends and I are a long way from home right now, but… but we still have a home to return to. These ponies might have lost everything in the fire."
"Regardless of the circumstances, I do need to meet with all the new tenants that move in so that I can at the very least put names to faces and introduce myself. They've got to pay rent, same as everypony else, y'know?" He replaced his hat on his head and stood from his chair. "Shall we?"
"Yes, let's," she replied.
While she'd been hesitant to meet many other tenants in the building so far, she found herself somewhat eager to meet these new ones, mostly because she felt immense sympathy for their situation. She couldn't imagine what she'd do if something terrible happened to her cottage back home; it hurt just to think about what all of her animal friends would do without all the little habitats she built around it.
She and Lockwood climbed the stairs up to the seventy-fourth floor and came to the door labeled 12:00, right in front of the stairwell. Lockwood adjusted his hat and jacket so that he looked as professional as possible, then gave the door a brisk knock.
There was no response.
So he knocked again.
This time, the sound of hoofsteps came from the other side, and soon after, the door opened.
On the other side was an absolute giant of a pegasus mare, taller than any mare Fluttershy had ever seen before apart from the Princesses back home, and even taller than most stallions; she could probably be eye-level with Big Macintosh, and he was taller than even Applejack. Her coat was gray, and her mane and tail were colored slate and stone gray on either half with a magenta streak down the middle. She wore a thick hooded sweater, colored a darker gray than her coat.
The mare didn't say a word, just looked at Lockwood first, then turned her attention to Fluttershy, then back to Lockwood.
Since she didn't say anything for several seconds, Lockwood cleared his throat. "Um, hello. I'm Lockwood, your new landlord here at Southeast Point. I don't believe we've had the pleasure of meeting yet. You must be… let's see…" He glanced at the paperwork he'd brought with him. "Ah, Gray Skies, the pegasus."
The mare nodded. "That's me."
"Wonderful. Let's see here, there are… three of you living at this apartment: you and your sisters Insipid and Red Velvet. Are either of them here at the moment?"
Gray shook her head, but didn't say anything; that was good enough, though.
"Oh well, another time then. Welcome to Southeast Point," Lockwood with a tip of his hat. "I see from your file here that you already filled out all of the necessary paperwork—good show on getting that done so quickly—so all I really need is this formal meeting; one down, two to go. Any idea when we can expect your sisters home?"
Gray shrugged. "Red's out exploring the neighborhood, and Insipid's looking for a new job. They left me behind to deal with this stuff." She turned briefly towards Fluttershy, then lifted her head briefly. "Who's that?" she asked Lockwood, though her gaze was still on Fluttershy.
Fluttershy, in turn, hid her face behind her mane a little bit; this other mare was certainly soft-spoken and seemed polite and calm enough, but she was so big that it was a little scary looking at her, or rather having her looking at Fluttershy. She could see, even with the sweatshirt in the way, that Gray absolutely bulged with muscle. Even Applejack would be impressed.
"Oh, this is my new assistant, Fluttershy. I'm just showing her around so she can get used to the place," Lockwood said with a grin. He gestured at Fluttershy gently with a tilt of his head, the universal sign for "go on, say something".
Fluttershy gulped, took half a step forward, and nodded politely. "H-hi. Nice to meet you, Miss Skies."
"Gray."
Fluttershy raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"
"Call me Gray. Nopony calls me 'Miss Skies'. Too formal."
"Oh. Okay, Gray," Fluttershy said with another polite nod. "It's nice to meet you."
"Indeed, it's a pleasure," Lockwood added. He looked between the two briefly, a little grin on his face. "You know, Fluttershy is also a relatively new tenant here at Southeast Point."
Gray turned her attention back to him. "Hmm?"
"Yes, she just moved in two days ago, actually. Isn't that right, Fluttershy?"
Fluttershy gave Lockwood a nervous look, trying to nonverbally communicate with him as best she could, "what are you doing?" When he either didn't pick up on it, or just flat-out ignored it, Fluttershy realized that Gray was looking expectantly at her for an answer.
"Oh… um… y-yes, that's right, I just moved in. I'm… s-sort of new to the big city…"
Gray hummed, eyebrow up. "You're not from around here?"
"Oh, n-no, I'm from a little town called Ponyville. It's… down south," she said, maintaining the cover story that she and her friends were instructed to keep to.
"Ah. So I guess we're both strangers around here," Gray said. She paused, then shook her head. "I mean, I've never been here to the Mid-South District. I'm from New Pandemonium, obviously."
"Oh. I… guess that's true, yes. We're both strangers here then, in a sense," Fluttershy replied.
"You live alone?"
"No, I'm living with some of my friends. They're just all off doing… their own things, at the moment. Looking for work and things like that, I mean."
"Why aren't you?"
"Oh, um… I… I just…" Fluttershy murmured. "I'm… not really good at anything that would be useful up here. I mean, I guess I'm Lockwood's assistant now, but—"
"So they just left you here, huh?" Gray said with an understanding nod. "Hey, my sisters are like that, too." She paused, then tilted her head slightly. "So, y'know, I'm always home, in case you ever needed somepony to talk to or something."
Fluttershy blinked, blindsided by the offer. "Oh? Oh! Um… thank you. That's… that's very nice of you."
Gray shrugged. "Eh, not so much nice as it's boring being around the place by myself. Might be nice to have somepony to talk to. Somepony not so loud."
"Well, still, I appreciate the offer," Fluttershy said with a smile. "I… I might take you up on that."
"Cool." Gray turned to Lockwood. "So, are we done here?"
Lockwood smiled and nodded. "I think we are, for now. I'll still need to meet with your sisters eventually so that I can make this all official. When they return from their errands, I'd appreciate it if you could let them know to come see me ASAP."
"Sure, whatever." She tilted her head up at Fluttershy briefly. "See you around."
"Um… bye," Fluttershy said, waving.
The door closed, and Fluttershy and Lockwood were left alone in the hall again.
"She seems nice," Lockwood said with a grin.
Fluttershy smiled. "She… she does, yes. Um, sorry if I was… awkward about all that. I don't usually jump right into introductions so quickly…"
"It's alright," Lockwood said, taking her hoof and giving it a gentle pat. "I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable by doing that. I just sensed a potential connection there and, well, I couldn't stop myself. That's kind of my thing, in case you haven't noticed: helping ponies make connections?"
She nodded. "I've noticed. And you're very good at it, I can see that now."
"Well, I'm glad I could help get the ball rolling on this for the two of you. I have the feeling this will be the start of a wonderful friendship, mark my words."
Fluttershy smiled and nodded again. She wasn't sure if Lockwood was right, but she was hoping he was.
Chapter Eleven: Competition
A turquoise pegasus stallion with a stark white mane, which he kept slicked back and relatively short, walked through the streets of Mid-South's Central Plaza. It was late morning, which meant the streets were busy and the airways already cluttered with traffic. He'd made good time getting here all the way from Mid-East's West Square, so he didn't mind walking the rest of the way to his destination: the Central Plaza Recreation Center.
It wasn't far from where he was now, actually; he could already see it just up ahead, a large, two-story building that could house a fully-stocked gymnasium and plenty of room for local ponies to participate in all sorts of activities and sports. Most of the city's rec centers were large enough to at the very least include a skyball court, since they could be converted into other sport courts easily.
He adjusted his faded sport jacket and tie and entered into the building, making straight for the aforementioned skyball court. He had some reliable information that if he came here today and watched one of the early local pick-up games, he'd find some new talent for the Mid-East Rockets. Normally he preferred to scout new talent himself, but Lockwood had been rather insistent that he show up, and Lockwood had always been a rather pleasant acquaintance, so he felt he'd give him the benefit of the doubt.
The first game of the day—there were always plenty more—hadn't started just yet, but he could see the two teams beginning to form up; it wasn't exactly a neat or organized process, since pegasi just walked up to one of the two teams and asked if they could join in, but what could you do? He was used to watching these games unfold, sometimes with players switching out at random because some pegasus in the crowd wanted to play, or one of the players had to leave.
Everypony was wearing simple jerseys or exercise shirts, either their own or ones that they rented from the establishment. That was a more recent development, actually, the results of a number of charity drives to fund the rec centers so they could provide comfortable clothes for visitors that lacked their own. He'd shown up at some of those fundraisers himself; the catering was always fantastic.
He took a seat in the bleachers, separating himself from the other ponies that had gathered to watch the game. He scanned the current selection of players to see if he could spot anypony that stood out to him; Lockwood hadn't given a physical description of who he was supposed to be watching, just said that "he'd know her when he saw her", so that at least narrowed it down to a mare. That helped things a little bit, since there were only about four mares taking the field at the moment.
"Well well well, look who showed up," came a voice all too familiar to him. "Rainslick, how are ya? So desperate to find another loser to fill out your team that you're jumping District lines?"
The stallion—Rainslick—groaned and turned to see another pegasus stallion, this one with a broader build. The other stallion's coat was charcoal gray, his mane a silvery blue that he kept in a trim crew cut; he also wore a sport jacket and tie, though his were in much nicer condition and clearly cost much more money. If he didn't hate the other stallion's guts so much, he'd find him attractive.
"Thunder Guns! Hey, good to see you!" Rainslick lied, putting on his best fake smile. "I don't know anything about finding 'losers'. Why, if I was here to pick some of those up, I'd ask why you're here."
Thunder chuckled. "Oh, if there are any good players here, I'd be sure to snag them up before you could even breathe. You'll just have to pick up the sloppy seconds. But I'm sure you're used to that."
Rainslick barely contained a snarl. "Looking good, by the way. That is a nice jacket. It probably looked better in your wife's closet, though."
"Ah ah, look, but don't touch," Thunder said as he straightened the jacket, giving off a cocky smile, either unbothered by the quip or oblivious to it. "Wish I could say the same for yours. Did you get that rag of yours out of the city landfill? Oh no, don't tell me you bought it? I mean, I guess that's all you can afford on the kind of salary the Rockets pay you: third-hoof rejects. Just like your team."
"Oh, I make due," Rainslick said, keeping his teeth clenched so that the words he wanted to say would stay down. "But really, what are you doing here? I thought your team was already filled out for the season?"
"It is, but I like to keep my options open. You never know when you might find a good reserve pick to keep in the wings, right?" Thunder clapped Rainslick on the shoulder. "But you wouldn't know anything about that. You barely manage to field a full team some seasons. It's a shame, really."
"Be a lot easier if we didn't have certain other teams poaching our talent," Rainslick quipped.
Thunder hoof dug into Rainslick's shoulder. "Oh, careful there Rainslick. You wouldn't want to be throwing around base accusations without any proof now, would you? You know that poaching talent is against league rules and is a serious allegation."
Rainslick glared at Thunder. "Yes, I'm sure that all of my best players over the past eight years have just decided entirely on their own whims to violate their contracts and sign with the team that could afford to pay them off. Silly me, why would I think anything else?"
"That's a good colt."
A whistle sounded from the court below, signaling that the game was finally underway.
"Well, I'll leave you to your… work," Thunder said with that same cocky grin of his that Rainslick hated oh so much. He then strode off down the bleachers to take a seat, also separating himself from the others in the crowd.
"Pompous ass," Rainslick muttered under his breath. "It's always the good-looking ones."
He turned his attention to the game now, and watched to see which of these mares was supposed to be this potential star talent that Lockwood had indicated that he absolutely needed to see so badly that he had to dirty his hooves in Thunder Guns' territory.
Luckily, it didn't take long to figure it out.
The cyan-coated mare with a rainbow-colored mane was both impossible to miss and impossible to see at the same time. Basically, she was moving so quickly through the air above the court floor that it was hard for Rainslick to keep track of her, but during the brief lulls in action or whenever she wasn't in possession of the ball, he could see her clear as day.
Rainslick had been a talent scout for a decade at this point, and he had never seen a pegasus move like this before.
For one thing, she was quick, that was easy enough to notice; all anypony could see was a blue-and-rainbow blur streaking across the court to gain possession of the ball whenever it was fumbled. She was fast enough to save her team from fumbled penalties even when the ball was down in the red zone—the portion of the court closest to the ground where the ball was still in legal play, so-named because a fumble was guaranteed to result in a penalty. She even did it from the other side of the field more than once.
For another thing, she was coordinated. There were plenty of fast flyers in the sport—it was practically required of any pegasus who wanted to play in the striker position—but only the best strikers could play keep-away for more than a few seconds from even an average blocker. It wasn't a simple matter of holding onto the ball, since strikers had to dribble or pass it if they wanted to move more than five feet at a time. But this mare was so quick that she was able to perform feints that Rainslick had only seen in professional games.
She was a surprisingly good team player, too, a rarity amongst players with that kind of talent. Sure, the other two strikers on her team weren't anywhere near as fast or dextrous as she was, but she passed the ball to them all the same when one the better opposing three blockers managed to keep her cornered. Sure, the other strikers often only kept possession for a few moments—that was the nature of the sport—but then the blue-and-rainbow blur was always quick to recover it.
By the end of the first period, Rainslick was positive that this rainbow-maned mare was the one that Lockwood had suggested he come and see.
A glance towards Thunder Guns told Rainslick that he'd obviously noticed the mare's talent as well, which Rainslick knew did not bode well. Even if this mare was friends with Lockwood, would she pass up an opportunity to play with Thunder's team just because Rainslick knew Lockwood? He certainly hoped so; Lockwood was always a good judge of character, after all. He still needed to talk to her first, before Thunder did.
As expected, in between periods there were a few players here and there that left the field to go do something else. Others would move in to replace them, of course, typically because pickup games cycled players in rotations to give everypony a shot. The rainbow mare stayed on her team's lineup, though; even if this was just a friendly pick-up game, that team clearly saw they had a better chance to win with her on the field.
When the second period finally got started, it proceeded much as the first period had, at least for a few moments: the blue-and-rainbow blur got possession of the ball almost immediately and went about setting her team up for points, kicking the ball into the centermost ring of the opposing team's goal to earn the most points possible.
Then, on the next play, the game changed completely.
One of the opposing blockers actually managed to tackle the rainbow mare, taking possession away and costing the rainbow mare's team a fumble penalty for the first time of the game. Neither of the rainbow mare's striker teammates were fast enough to reacquire possession, and the opposing strikers went with the tried-and-true strategy of letting the ball hit the floor so their opponents would lose a point.
The new blocker hadn't been playing during the first period, which Rainslick found to be a shame since if she had, her team wouldn't have the frankly embarrassing point deficit they did at the moment. She was a sporty red mare with a black mane with a streak of white through the middle, a somewhat scrawny-looking thing but looks were apparently deceiving, because she packed a lot of punch.
Now, the game got much more interesting.
Until now it had basically been a standard game of skyball with one really good player making lots of outstanding plays, and thus the game itself wasn't very fun to watch. The rainbow mare was too quick for the blockers to catch, too nimble to screw up a dribble or a pass, too accurate to miss even the harder centermost goal ring.
Then this new mare entered the fray and turned the game from a team sport into essentially a one-on-one match.
The rainbow mare zipped around the court in an attempt to keep away from the red-and-black mare. Ball passes were becoming increasingly rarer as red-and-black was attentive enough to keep the ball in rainbow mare's possession, since she could outrace any pass and tackle the target of said pass; rainbow mare had to keep the ball with her to avoid losing control of the court.
The rainbow mare was certainly faster, enough to keep her opponent from completely dominating her at every turn, but one mistake was all she needed to lose control. So now the game had become this fascinating back-and-forth as the pair constantly one-upped one another.
Rainbow mare would feint to get around red-and-black long enough to either get the ball into the goal or otherwise pass it to somepony else if only for a brief moment; other times, red-and-black would spot the feint coming and tackle rainbow mare hard, and nopony on rainbow mare's team was quick enough to regain possession.
Still, none of the red-and-black mare's team strikers were anywhere near quick enough to gain possession of the ball after penalties and scores. It wasn't their fault, of course; they couldn't have known that they, a bunch of casual amateurs, were thrown into a game with two mares that could be in the pro league.
Best of all, it didn't take long for the two mares to start trash-talking one another like a pair of colts on the schoolyard. It was an essential part of the game, after all, but typically one couldn't hear it over the crowds. These two were loud enough that everypony could hear it.
"Too slow, shorty!" called rainbow mare as she twisted around red-and-black in a truly masterful feint, tossing the ball up and over her opponent in a fake pass to catch it behind her. "If you were any slower, you'd be moving backwards!"
A goal was scored for rainbow mare's team, the ball was reset, and the game continued.
"You'd have a better chance scoring with your dad, chump!" red-and-black shouted after she tackled rainbow mare hard around mid-court, barely avoiding a penalty for an illegal tackle.
The ball hit the floor, the rainbow mare's team lost a point, the ball was reset, and the game continued.
"Boom!" the rainbow mare cheered after she scored another perfect goal directly through the center ring. She got right in red-and-black's face. "The trash gets picked up tomorrow, shrimp! You'd better be ready."
The ball was reset, and the game continued.
Red-and-black tackled the rainbow mare later in the period, causing yet another fumble penalty to deduct from the rainbow mare's team. "I think I must've heard dinner bells, dork, 'cause your ass just got served!"
The ball was reset, and the game continued.
It went on like this for the remainder of the game, and despite the fact that this was just an amatuer pickup game held in a rec center in front of maybe two dozen ponies at best, it was probably the most entertaining game Rainslick had seen in years. The quips fired back and forth between the two alone could fill a book.
He wasn't sure which of these two mares had been the one that Lockwood wanted him to see, and that really didn't matter anymore. The rainbow one was the best striker he'd ever witnessed outside of professional play, faster than the eye could see; the red-and-black one was easily as good as some of the pro blockers despite her size, quicker even than most strikers and super aggressive.
Rainslick knew then and there that if he could get them both on his team, well, that'd just be perfect.
But a glance in Thunder Guns' direction told Rainslick that the other stallion was clearly thinking the same thing. If the other scout got to them first, Rainslick knew he'd never have a chance to recruit them, and worse, they'd be on an opposing team for the entire upcoming season; the Rockets would have yet another losing season for sure, no question about that, and that was if he could even field a full team.
So he knew that he had to figure out something, fast. The fourth period was nearly ending, and Thunder Guns, ever the professional even if he was an underhanded slug, would be waiting to approach them after they'd had a chance to shower and change after the game was done. Rainslick had to get to them first, or he'd be screwed.
With a glance towards the mares’ locker room door on the opposite end of the court, Rainslick came up with an idea. A risky, horrible, wonderful idea.
*****
Rainbow dried her mane out with a towel after leaving the locker room showers, thankful that they were free to use since she hadn't brought her own. She'd worked up quite a sweat out on the court, much more than she'd been expecting to, and so had actually opted to shower up a bit after the game.
It felt good, actually, to get cleaned up in a proper shower; she hadn't bathed since before that stupid portal had whisked her and her friends away, and hadn't found the time to do so since arriving, not with all six of them living the same cramped apartment. Part of that was Rarity insisting on being clean herself and spending too long in the bathroom; part of it was that there just hadn't been an opportunity; part of it was wanting the others who needed it to use it to make good first impressions at their new jobs today.
Let nopony say that Rainbow didn't care about her friends.
Rainbow had thought she'd been the last one to leave, if only because she'd taken a longer time to clean up and relax, but apparently she was wrong. When she approached her locker, clad in nothing but a damp towel around her neck, she saw that another mare was using the locker across from hers; well, not her locker, since it wasn't like they were labeled or anything, but the one that Rainbow had rented.
It was that red-coated mare with the skunk-like mane from out on the skyball court. The other mare had also showered up—Rainbow hadn't been looking while showering herself, and the showers were actually pretty big—and was currently drying off her wings. Rainbow couldn't help but check her out, even if just for a second; the other mare had a lean, athletic figure like Rainbow did, but she was a few inches shorter.
The other mare noticed Rainbow's arrival, and her mouth curled in a little grin, but she just kept going about drying off. "Oh, hey. I thought I was the last one here."
"Yeah, same," Rainbow replied.
"Hey, you were out on the field with me, right? Striker position? Good game out there."
Rainbow smirked. "'Good'? We beat you guys by like thirty points."
"Pfft, yeah, but that's only because I wasn't in the game during the first period," the other mare scoffed, twisting her towel to clean out her ears. "You'd have never scored so many points if I'd been blocking you all game, lamewad."
"Keep dreaming, shortstack," Rainbow mocked, tossing her towel into a bin designated for dirty rental laundry. "If you were in charge of blocking me all game, I'd be in the Hall of Fame by morning. They'd tell stories about the schooling I gave you."
"Ha! You're yesterday's news, dipstick," said the other mare as she got right in Rainbow's face, strangely unbothered by the fact that they were both naked; Rainbow didn't mind, but she thought ponies from around here did. "Maybe you oughta find out when the cheerleader tryouts are, see how you look in pom-poms and a skirt. The only balls you oughta be handling are in the stallions' locker room."
Rainbow paused, then smirked; this other mare had one hell of a mouth on her, that was for sure, and Rainbow loved having a verbal sparring partner that didn't shy away from dishing it out full throttle. "You know what, you're alright, dude. What's your name?"
"Havoc," the other mare said, offering her hoof. "You?"
"Rainbow Dash," Rainbow replied, shaking the other mare's hoof. "Good game out there, though, really. I mean it. You hit like a train for such a little filly. You're sure you're old enough to play?"
Havoc rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, you know dynamite comes in small packages, right? That's me: dynamite city." She grinned, patting Rainbow on the shoulder. "You're not a bad striker, though. I've never met anypony faster than me, but damn if you didn't make me work for those tackles."
"Yeah, not to toot my own horn, but you're looking at the fastest flyer in Equestria," Rainbow said, a smug grin on her face. "If you want my autograph, though, you're gonna have to get in line."
"Heh, your ass must get jealous of all that shit coming outta your mouth," Havoc retorted.
"Ooh, nice one. Not often I meet anypony that smack talks like you do and actually backs it up."
"Same to you, Rainbow… Crash," Havoc said, looking mighty proud of herself.
Rainbow snorted. "Yeah, never heard that before. I take it back, your smack talk sucks."
"Aww, what? Somepony else used that already? Damn. Sorry, it was just off the top of my head. How about Painbow Dash?"
"Heard it."
Havoc tapped her chin. "Rainbutt Dash? Does that sound too forced?"
"A little."
"Ooh, here we go: Rainbow Ass."
Rainbow raised an eyebrow. "Sounds more like you're complimenting my awesome butt. I don't have a problem if you were checking me out in the shower; I am pretty hot."
Havoc stuck out her tongue. "Whoa whoa, no, that's not— ugh! Dammit, why'd the easy ones already get taken?" She jabbed her hoof in Rainbow's chest. "I'll think of a better one, don't you worry. I just need some more material to work with."
"Well, just don't hurt your brain trying to come up with something clever," Rainbow chuckled. "It's not really fair that I can't do the same for your name. I mean… 'Havoc'. Cool name, seriously, but I've got nothing to work with there."
"Yeah? Tough shit."
A cough from nearby drew their attention to a turquoise pegasus stallion with a stark white mane wearing a faded sport jacket. "Excuse me, ladies, if I could just have a moment of your time—"
"Dude! What the fuck?!" Havoc snapped, her face somehow getting redder and throwing her towel over her flanks. "Get out of here, you fucking perv!"
Rainbow was quick to close the distance between herself and the stallion, lifting him off the ground a little with one hoof and pushing him against the wall. Nudity taboo or no, this was the mares' locker room, which meant mares only, which meant this guy was snooping around where he didn't belong. Even in her own world, this guy would be deserving of a butt-kicking.
"What's the big idea, huh?" she asked him, angling her other hoof to clock him across the jaw. "Nosing around in the mares' locker room? Hoping to catch a look at us showering or something?"
"Whoa whoa, let's calm down now," the stallion said, holding up his hooves defensively. "You've got me all wrong—"
"Deck him, Dash!" Havoc snarled, grabbing her clothes out of her locker; Rainbow noticed it was a black varsity jacket with white sleeves and a big letter H on the chest. "Break his jaw! Break his nose! Feed him his own teeth for lunch!"
"H-hang on! It's not what you think!"
"Yeah? Well then how about you explain it to me?" Rainbow said, moving her free hoof slightly to make him flinch. "Give me one good reason. If I don't like your story, you're getting a hoof sandwich."
"Okay, okay, let's not get too hasty here," the stallion said. "First of all, no, I am definitely not here to snoop around and peek at mares for any reason whatsoever. Mares aren't my thing, alright? I prefer stallions."
Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Oh sure, good excuse. So what, you think if you say that you're gay that we're just gonna let you peek at our privates? 'Oh, it's alright, he's gay, we'll let him touch us because he'd never do anything funny'. Sounds like the plot to a weak porno."
"Yeah yeah, like he gets a peek at us and 'sees the light' or whatever and asks us to help him 'cure the gay away'?" Havoc suggested, rolling her eyes. "Nice try, dude, but I've seen that one. We're not that gullible."
"N-no, that's not what I'm getting at," the stallion said. "I'm not here to gawk at mares, I swear. I'm specifically here because of you two, actually."
"What, like you're some kind of stalker?" Havoc asked, teeth clenched, approaching the stallion as well and prodding him in the chest. "Yeah, that sounds way better."
"What? No! No no, you've got it all wrong. Look, my name's Rainslick. I'm a talent scout for the Mid-East Rockets, a semi-pro skyball team, and a friend of mine called me last night and told me there would be some talent here at a pickup game that I should see and would be interested in."
Rainbow raised her eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Who's this 'friend' of yours?"
"Lockwood. Do you know him? One of you has to."
Rainbow relaxed her grip just a little. "Yeah, I know him. He said he'd let somepony know to be here to check me out on the court today. On the court," she emphasized, poking him in the chest, "not in the locker room. What are you doing here? You could've waited outside instead of spying on us like a pervert."
"W-well, you see, there's a rival team's scout out there that I know would probably be interested in picking you girls up for his team. I… I had to at least try to talk to you first so that I could give my team a chance to hire you. If you're interested?"
"Pfft," Havoc scoffed. "Let me get this straight: you snuck into the mares' locker room and surprised us while we were naked just so you could try and recruit us to your skyball team?"
"That's exactly right."
"I'm not buying it. You know that sounds incredibly stupid, right? Right on back to the cheesy porno idea. ‘Oh yeah, you can join my team but you gotta let me tap that first’. Seen that one, too."
"I didn't have a choice! Thunder Guns would push me right out of the way to talk to you first, and then I'd never have a chance to try." He hung his head and sighed. "Look, if you don't want to play for the Rockets, fine, I understand, and I have nopony but myself to blame. But if I didn't at least try, I'd be just as much to blame for that too. You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't take."
Havoc rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. As if we'd—"
"You said you were friends with Lockwood, right?" Rainbow asked.
Ranislick nodded. "Yeah?"
She let him off the wall and offered her hoof for him to shake. "Count me in then. You've got yourself a new striker."
He stared at her hoof, wide-eyed. "R-really?"
"Yo, Dash, what gives?" Havoc blurted, looking between the two like Rainbow was crazy. "This is skeezy as all hell. You're buying this dude's bullshit just like that?"
Rainbow turned to Havoc and grinned. "Look, this Lockwood guy I know seems to be on the up-and-up so far. I don't really trust him just yet, but my friends do, and they're giving him a chance to help us try and settle into things. I figure I might as well give him a shot, and I'd be a real jerk to spit on his friend's offer here and sign with a rival team. That's skeezy.
"Even though Mister Peepers here did sneak into the locker room just to make the offer," she noted, turning back to Rainslick. "I'm willing to look past that. But I'm warning you now, bucko, if you tried that whole 'I'm gay' excuse on us and it turns out you're lying, you're gonna have to call a proctologist to get my horseshoes out of your butt. Got it?"
Rainslick grinned. "Deal." He took her hoof in his and gave it a brisk shake. "Welcome to the Mid-East Rockets. I'll have a contract drawn up once I get back to office and get in touch with you for signatures and such." He then turned to Havoc. "How about you, Miss?"
"Me?" Havoc asked, pointing at herself, lost. "I'm not friends with this Lockwood guy like she is."
"Irrelevant. I saw you—both of you—on the court today, and you were both some of the most amazing players I've ever seen. I'd be a damn fool to pass up a chance to sign both of you. Until this moment I didn't even know which of you knew Lockwood, anyway."
"You want to sign me to the team too? Really?"
"Yes, really. Having the two of you on the team—an ace striker and an ace blocker—might just propel us straight into the playoffs. If you're interested, the offer's open. I won't force you into it or anything."
Rainbow smirked and nudged Havoc gently. "C'mon, Havoc. What's the harm? Hey, look at it this way: we'll get a chance to play together some more, and on the same team even! How cool is that?"
Havoc tapped her chin, then nodded. 'Yeah… yeah, alright, I'll do it. I've got nothing better to do with my time, and getting to hang out with this spaz," she said, gesturing at Rainbow, "sounds like it might be fun."
"Fantastic!" Rainslick exclaimed, a wide smile on his face. "Oh man, this is just what the Rockets needed. Wait until I tell the team. Thank you. Both of you," he said, shaking Rainbow's hoof then Havoc's. "Let's set an appointment for tomorrow afternoon, say, two-o'-clock, at the team headquarters. We're located in the Mid-East's West Square."
"Sounds good to me," Rainbow said with a nod.
"Yeah, I'll see you there, I guess," Havoc agreed.
"Wonderful. Thank you. Thank you so much. I'll see you two later, then. Thank you!" Rainslick waved and made his way for the exit, being careful not to let anypony see him leaving the mares' locker room.
"Huh. Well that was interesting," Rainbow said with a shrug. "So I guess we're teammates now?"
Havoc nodded. "Yeah, guess so. Neat. Oh, and Dash?" she added, averting her gaze.
"Yeah?"
"Put some fucking clothes on already."
Rainbow glanced down, realizing she was still nude. "Oh. Right."
Chapter Twelve: Confection
Pinkie wasn't really sure what to make of the strange array of treats that sat on a plate in front of her. They certainly looked like the typical sorts of confections that she was used to seeing—cupcakes, cookies, eclairs, etc.—but they were all a little… off.
They didn't smell quite right, for one thing; they just lacked that sugary sweet smell that came with all the baked goodies Pinkie loved. The textures were all off, too; the chocolate frosting didn't quite look like chocolate, and the whipped cream was flat and smooth, not light and puffy.
But the tastes, okay, those were pretty darn close. They weren't the best confections that Pinkie had ever tasted, but they certainly tasted close enough to the real deal that if not for her nose and eye for the details, she'd have been fooled completely.
It was still just a little bit off, though, meeting her standards just fine but not soaring above them. None of the treats were quite sweet enough, and they didn't have the same consistency at all. She'd eaten the cookie with a spoon like it was made of gelatin, for crying out loud.
"Good, right?" asked Cinnamon Swirl, the owner and proprietor of this establishment, The Sweet Spot.
The other mare was about the same age as Mrs. Cake back home, and roughly as well-rounded in figure. Her coat was a lush cinnamon brown, true to her name, and her mane a pleasant two-tone blend of chocolate and mocha. Cinnamon also wore a straightforward white chef coat and matching hat, both of which had colorful smudges on them.
Pinkie herself, incidentally, had changed out of her mishmashed outfit and into a cute little off-white waitress ensemble, complete with an apron. She'd liked her colorful, zany clothes at first, but she knew that such an outfit had no place in the kitchen or if she was going to be working in a pleasant little sweet shop like this, and so she'd enthusiastically switched it up. The new clothes would be hers once she was officially hired, and Pinkie would treat them right.
"They're super tasty," Pinkie said, licking her lips to get the not-quite-chocolate off. "A bit different from what I'm used to, but I like 'em! Pretty darn close to the real thing."
Cinnamon nodded. "That's right, Lockwood said you were from the southern continent. They use all sorts of authentic ingredients down there, don't they? No synthetics?"
"Yup! I really like what you made here, though, Miss Swirl. Like I said, it's almost as good as the real thing, and I mean that in the nicest, bestest way possible. I bet if you got to use real sugar and chocolate, you'd be the greatest baker in all of Equestria!"
"Well then, I'll take that as a compliment."
The interior of the shop, at least the front half, reminded Pinkie less of a bakery and more like a coffee shop. There was a glass counter loaded with assorted treats that were already prepared—donuts and danishes, mostly—with a cash register on top. Several small tables with chairs were carefully tucked into every nook and cranny available so that customers could sit and eat if they wanted to. Big windows looked out onto the street outside, which was already bustling with activity.
"Now," Cinnamon said as she turned and led Pinkie back into the kitchen proper, "your job here at The Sweet Spot is twofold. First and foremost, you will be operating the cash register, which means that you'll be taking orders and delivering them to customers on a daily basis. You're sure you can handle that?"
Pinkie snapped her hoof up in a brisk salute. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!"
"You're absolutely sure? It means you're going to be dealing with a lot of ponies every day, dealing with every single request and complaint they have, collecting payments and potentially issuing refunds, answering questions, chatting them up to make them feel at home, and just in general providing exemplary customer service. I ask again, Pinkie: can you handle that?"
Pinkie knew that Miss Swirl wouldn't ask twice unless it was really important, and if it was really important, Pinkie also knew that she'd put her all into it, and when she put her mind to something, that something got done.
"Absotively posilutely! I'm the friendliest face in the whole wide world, Miss Swirl. You can count on me to provide the best customer service ever."
"I certainly hope so," Cinnamon said with a grin. "We're getting close to the middle of the winter quarter, and that means the holiday season, and that means lots of catering. Now, I always take on extra help when the holidays are coming around, but let me be clear: this is a temporary position, and if you're not up to par, I'll find somepony else. Got it?"
"Got it," Pinkie said with a serious nod; her game face was on at maximum power at this point.
If Miss Swirl didn't believe her after this, well, Pinkie didn't know how else to prove it. She was utterly confident in her abilities to make ponies happy with her service, and had never met a pony yet that wasn't satisfied with the kind of service she could provide.
Okay, sure, sometimes ponies said she might be just a little overbearing, but it was always better to be too friendly and too attentive rather than being completely absent, right? It wasn't her fault that some ponies weren't aware of their surroundings and were easily surprised when she leapt out of bushes to deliver cupcake orders.
"Now, as for your second duty: when we're getting backed up with orders and you're not working the front of the store, you're going to be back here with me putting orders together," Cinnamon continued, gesturing to the fully-stocked kitchen. "Since you're not from around here, I take it you don't know how Dolor products work?"
Pinkie stroked her chin; it was true, she didn't, but she had a little to go on. "Well, so far all that I know about them is that depending on how you store and prepare them, they get all sorts of different flavors. I guess that's how you made it taste like cookies and cupcakes even though they don't taste like that plain?"
"That's exactly right. It's a complicated, precise process dealing with all sorts of different factors. Every single aspect of preparation makes a difference. But it's one thing for me to tell you, and another for me to demonstrate. Take a seat, this'll take just a moment."
Cinnamon then retrieved a number of small, stainless steel cups from around the room, each containing a spoonful of the familiar Dolor Red paste that Pinkie had grown accustomed to seeing by this point. She grabbed some from the refrigerator, some from the cabinet, others she scooped out of different pots on the stove, some she took out of the oven, and one she took out of the freezer. She loaded up a tray with the various cups and set them on the counter in front of Pinkie.
"Each of these bits of Red have been prepared differently," she continued. "Just to give you an idea of how big of a difference there is in how things are done, I want you to taste them all and I'll tell you how they were made. And here." She set a big glass of water on the table too. "Wash it down between samples so that you don't cross-contaminate flavors."
Pinkie blinked as she looked at the twenty or so different little cups, then nodded. "Okie dokie lokie! Which one should I start with?"
"Make it simple: start from the top left and go row by row, like you're reading a book."
Pinkie nodded, grabbed the first cup, and ate the paste inside without using the provided spoon. It tasted of overly-ripe cherries, which Pinkie knew by now meant it was straight Dolor Red right out of the tube, and that had been stored in the cabinet beforehand.
Next was what tasted like tart cranberry sauce. Cinnamon explained that that meant it had been stored at room temperature just like the prior batch, but then it had been blended and allowed to sit for an hour.
Next was the refrigerated batch, which tasted like strawberries. Then was a batch that had been chilled in ice water, which tasted like watermelon. The frozen stuff tasted like raspberries. When these three were blended and left to sit on the counter overnight, their flavors apparently changed to resemble bell peppers, tomatoes, and pomegranates, respectively.
Pinkie was astounded that the exact same spoonful of paste could change flavors so erratically.
Then came the cooked batches, and that's where Pinkie's mind was blown, because now the flavors started getting more interesting and complex.
For example, a refrigerated, blended batch that was simmered in a pan retained its bell pepper taste but now tasted like roasted peppers. If a little water was mixed in, it changed flavors completely to that of somewhat spicy chili peppers, which could then be simmered in turn to taste like roasted red chilis similar to the kind Pinkie enjoyed on her pizza.
If baked for one hour at 250 degrees, the straight-from-the-tube batch tasted like cherry pudding; 300 degrees made it taste like cherry pie; 350 degrees, cherry cobbler. Similar things happened when the other batches were baked, changing their flavors into more complex versions of themselves. Yes, even the chilled batch changed from plain watermelon into what Pinkie could only describe as varieties of roasted watermelon, which was not at all what she expected and was also not at all unpleasant.
The only thing noticeable about all of the flavors was that they were blander than Pinkie was used to, even more so than what she'd tasted earlier, and it was just plain paste as far as she was concerned. By the time Pinkie was done, though, she'd run through an entire gamut of red-colored flavors, some of them sweet, some spicy, some savory, but all of them strikingly familiar.
"And that's just the plain Red all by itself," Cinnamon explained once Pinkie finished off the last of the batches. "When you start mixing in other colors, the flavors change even more, but probably not in the way you'd think. For example, you know that red and yellow paint mix together to make orange, right?"
Pinkie nodded.
"Well, Dolor Red and Dolor Yellow mixed together do not taste anything like Dolor Orange. Now, you tell me why that's perfectly logical."
Pinkie nodded again. "Makes perfect sense to me! Cherries and bananas don't make oranges, silly."
"Exactly right. Sometimes the flavors don't blend quite right and you get weird combinations where you can taste the two flavors separately, like the cherries and bananas we just mentioned. But, if you were to refrigerate the Red…?"
"It would mix with Yellow to make strawberry-banana! Like those smoothies I like from that little corner store near Rarity's boutique!" Pinkie exclaimed with a rapid, understanding nod. "Cool!"
"Very cool. Now, we don't get all of the flavors in existence, of course," Cinnamon explained with a shrug. "For example, I know they've got something down south called a… grapefruit? Have you ever seen one? I've only seen pictures."
"Oh, yeah, I know all about grapefruits. They're kind of pink on the inside, and they squirt real good if you poke 'em with your spoon at breakfast and then your eye starts burning." She paused. "Ooh, do you have to mix Red with White to get pink stuff? There's isn't a Dolor Pink, is there?"
Cinnamon shook her head. "White and Black don't mix quite the same way as the other colors, actually. But no, there's no Pink. We can't get the grapefruit flavor until Dolorcorp decides to experiment with Pink someday, but that's a long ways off since Black is their newest flavor and they're trying to promote it."
"Aw, phooey. No Pink means no grapefruit, dragon fruit, or guava-flavored stuff. Well, how do White and Black work, then?"
"White is a flavor enhancer; on its own it tastes like mostly white foods, like marshmallows, vanilla, and whipped cream, but when mixed with other colors, it helps to enhance the flavors and give them different textures."
To demonstrate, Cinnamon took a little cup of frozen White out of the freezer, and mixed it together with the strawberry-flavored Red out of the fridge, then passed it to Pinkie, who scarfed it down like all the others.
"Ooh! Strawberry ice cream!" Pinkie chirped, her ears perking up. It was actually pretty decent strawberry ice cream, at least as far as flavor was concerned. Her tongue was all confused tasting it without the creamy texture, though.
"Now, that's what White does," Cinnamon continued. "Black, on the other hoof, is typically overpowering unless it's straight out of the tube, which just adds a licorice taste to certain other flavors, but otherwise doesn't combine too well. When mixed with other flavors after being heated, though…"
She took a scoop of liquidized Dolor Black from one of the small pans on the stove, poured it into another refrigerated batch of Red, and passed it over.
Pinkie ate it, and licked her lips enthusiastically. "Mmm, chocolate-covered strawberries, and really fresh ones too, with rich dark chocolate! Neat!"
"So, as you can see, there are practically thousands of different combinations of different flavors, and a lot of them are rather difficult to memorize. Sometimes the portions matter, too. Add too much Black to that last combination, and you've basically just got chocolate with a distant hint of strawberry somewhere; too little, and you can't even taste the chocolate."
"It sounds complicated, like you said, but I'm looking forward to trying out all sorts of different things!" Pinkie said with a bright smile.
Cinnamon shook her head. "Oh, there's no 'trying out' anything, here, sweetheart."
"Huh?"
Cinnamon gestured to the wall of the kitchen behind Pinkie, where there was a large recipe guide to every single item that the establishment served, from the chocolate eclairs made with proper portions of Black, White, and Yellow, to the strawberry-pineapple shortcake made of Red, Yellow, and White. Every recipe had precise instructions for how much of each ingredient and how those ingredients were stored, as well as how long to cook them if needed, and then how to mix them together. Just like regular recipes, really.
"The Sweet Spot has a particular set of items that we sell, and I only adjust the menu during certain seasons, like adding pumpkin pie in the autumn quarter, and peppermint bark in the winter quarter. I typically remove items that don't have high demand after about a year, and after the last ten years my menu has pretty much hit the point that I'm not making any changes."
Pinkie tilted her head. "So… no trying out new things? What if you could make something that everypony really, really liked, and just needed to find the right combination? That's how real ingredients work."
Cinnamon gave Pinkie a sad smile. "Believe me, sweetheart, I've experimented with all sorts of different recipes out there, but Dolor products aren't like authentic ingredients. If you change too much in a recipe, you don't just end up with variations of a recipe, you end up with a totally different recipe. Too much Yellow in the eclair turns it into chocolate-covered bananas; too much Red in the cherry jubilee turns it into chili pepper ice cream. Get it?"
Pinkie considered that and as much as she didn't like to admit it, it seemed to be the truth: the Dolor things didn't work like a regular recipe did. If she was making cornbread at home, for example, different grinds of cornmeal would change the texture or color of the final product, not suddenly turn her concoction into corn-on-the-cob or creamed corn.
Pinkie realized that meant if a certain Dolor color didn't exist the flavors it provided were impossible to make. And that meant that until they brought out the newest color, Black, the entire city of New Pandemonium had been denied easy access to chocolate for who knows how many years.
That was pure evil. What kind of mad pony allowed that sort of thing to happen?!
"Got it," Pinkie said with a nod. "No tweaking the recipes, no messing around. You run a tight ship around here, Miss Swirl."
"Excellent, you're a fast learner so far."
"I try!"
"Now, seeing as we've got about thirty minutes before I open up shop, and I've got most of the early-morning products done, let's say we have ourselves a little trial run and see how well you can put together… hmmm…" Cinnamon tapped her hoof on one of the recipes on the wall. "Strawberry cheesecake."
Pinkie saluted. "On it!" She grabbed a spare chef hat from nearby, zipped over to the prep table after grabbing what she needed, rolled her shoulders, and set to work.
"♫All you have to do is take a cup of White stuff,
Add it to the mix!
Now just take a little something else—not cream puffs.
A bit of Red, just a pinch!
Baking these treats is such a cinch,
Add a teaspoon of some Yellow!
Add a little more, and you count to four,
And you'll never feel so mellow!
Cheesecake! So sweet and tasty!
Cheesecake Don't be too hasty!
Cheesecake! Cheesecake, Cheesecake, CHEESECAKE!"
When she was done, the little plate on the counter was now topped with what looked like a genuine slice of cheesecake marbled with strawberry swirls and drizzled with a little more strawberry syrup.
Cinnamon raised an eyebrow. "Wh-what was with the singing?"
"Hmm? Oh! I just like singing sometimes, especially when I'm trying to get a groove going," Pinkie giggled. "Though it was kind of tough rearranging some of the rhymes to fit with the ingredients. The whole 'White stuff, cream puff' bit was a bitch of a stretch, I think, but hey, you try altering established lyrics on the fly."
She then waved her hooves over her creation. "Anyway, ta-da! What do you think?"
Cinnamon hummed and nodded as she looked over the slice of strawberry-cheesecake-shaped Dolor paste that had been arranged on the plate. "The presentation is excellent, I will certainly give you that. Yes, this is some grade-A professional work here just on that alone; I haven't seen anypony put together a presentation like this in years.
"But what really matters, of course, is the taste…"
She took a spoon and scooped some of Pinkie's mixture up, popped it into her mouth, and swallowed it down. She nodded appreciatively as soon as she was done.
"Hey… hey, alright. That is one perfectly-done product, Pinkie. You followed the recipe to the letter, though I think you might've added just a little more Red than what was called for. But I still like it. Well done."
Pinkie beamed. "Thanks! So, am I hired?"
Cinnamon nodded, a wide smile on her face as she took another bite. "Oh yes, you are definitely hired."
Pinkie pumped her hoof. "Yes! Score one for the Pink! Ooh, I can't wait to tell Dashie! She'll be so proud of me!"
Cinnamon glanced at the clock on the wall. "Well, now that that's all settled in, it's just about time to open the store. Go ahead and take your position at the register and we'll get this day started, shall we?"
"Ma'am, yes ma'am!" Pinkie said with a brisk salute.
*****
Pinkie had always considered herself an eager-yet-patient pony with a heart of gold that could attend to a customer's needs better than anypony in the whole wide world. Ponies all over Ponyville adored her fun-loving, personable attitude, her eager, friendly demeanor, and her outgoing, lighthearted disposition; those were all words that Twilight had used to describe her at one time or another, and they were good words, and so she would use them too.
She always knew the best ways to make somepony smile. She was the sort of pony that could turn a frown upside-down with the same kind of masterful insight and dedication that a world-famous detective would use to solve the biggest mystery of the century. Even on the rarest of occasions, when somepony had a seriously-serious reason to be sad, Pinkie knew how to keep them from falling apart at the seams.
If she could get Cranky to open up and accept her friendship, she could do the same with anypony.
And so, despite being in a world where it seemed that every other pony had a scowl and a bad attitude, where most folks were too busy, too stressed, or too aggravated to even think of cracking a smile, Pinkie managed to find a way to at the very least make them smile in their hearts, if not upon their faces.
All it took was a little patented Pinkie Pie personality, passion, perseverance, and playfulness, and even the stodgiest of fuddy-duddies would be able to go about their day with at least a tiny spark of happiness.
"Hey, you gave me the wrong change!" shouted an angry pegasus stallion as Pinkie handed him four bits from the till.
"I did?" Pinkie said, glancing down at the four bits. She even counted them aloud, "One, two, three, four… hey, you're right! There should be five! Hang on a second."
She roughly smacked the side of her head a few times until another bit somehow popped from out of her ear and landed in the stallion's outstretched hoof.
"There it is!" Pinkie said with a beaming smile. "Must've gotten stuck in there! Sorry about that."
The stallion glanced at the bits in his hoof, then at Pinkie, then just pocketed them and nodded before taking a seat while he waited for his order, all of anger washed away like mud with a water hose.
Later, a unicorn mare complained, "I ordered a slice of blueberry pie with extra White on top." She displayed her order, a slice of blueberry pie with plenty of chilled White on top, the perfect substitute for whipped cream. "This is not enough White."
Pinkie hummed and nodded, then pulled a can of real whipped cream out of her mane and sprayed some on top of the slice. "Say wheennn~"
The mare watched in surprise, clearly having never seen authentic whipped cream out of an aerosol can before. She was so stunned that she almost forgot to tell Pinkie to stop when the pie was piled high with cream.
"There you go!" Pinkie giggled, putting the can back in her mane. "My treat. Just don't tell anypony," she added with a wink.
"Th-thanks," the mare said, digging her spoon into the cream to give it a taste. Her eyes opened wide in the telltale surprise that meant she'd enjoyed what she just ate. "Wow. Did you guys do something different with the White today?"
Pinkie shook her head. "Nope! Must be your imagination. Maybe the satisfaction of a job well done is making it taste better?"
"Right…" the mare muttered as she walked off, continuing to snack on the pie.
This continued on through most of the day, though not every customer had a complaint, and in fact very few did. Some ponies ordered their food with very particular instructions, which Pinkie knew weren't going to be followed when they got back to Cinnamon Swirl because they would basically ruin the product. It was a classic case of ponies ordering their food without understanding what made the food work in the first place.
Pinkie's favorite was a teenaged earth pony mare that ordered a blackberry cheesecake with no Yellow, easy on the White, and to substitute the Blue with Purple, which Pinkie knew altogether would make her order into a blueberry pie. Cinnamon Swirl had laughed out loud when she saw the order ticket, said something about "idiot kids", then followed the proper recipe.
The customer gave her compliments to the chef and ate it down without complaint.
*****
By the time Pinkie was done with her shift, she felt a satisfying mix of pride and exhaustion. The sheer number of customers at The Sweet Spot absolutely dwarfed the amount that she was used to from Sugarcube Corner, but the fact that she was able to get through every last one of them without a single unsatisfied customer lit her heart on fire.
Pinkie was very much a believer in the idea that one should leave places better than how they found them. She figured that if she kept this up, then by the time she and her friends had gone back home maybe New Pandemonium would be a happier place. After all, when somepony was happy, they tended to spread that happiness around; happiness was contagious, and Pinkie was patient zero.
A few hours after lunchtime, The Sweet Spot was ready to close, so she and Cinnamon headed out after the latter made sure everything inside was off and put away.
The surrounding neighborhood was, like most of Central Plaza, relatively nice compared to how Pinkie had heard other parts of the city described. The Sweet Spot itself was a cozy little shop in the wall along one side of the street, tucked in tightly with a bunch of other shops and businesses to the sides and above it; their immediate neighbors were a horseshoe store and a pharmacy.
"You did very well, Pinkie," said Cinnamon with a grin. "I think you're gonna do just great here. Maybe tomorrow we'll get enough of a rush that you'll get a chance to try making some stuff out in the back with me."
Pinkie blinked. "That… that wasn't a rush? I must've served over a hundred ponies today!"
"Yeah, it was pretty slow, wasn't it? That's okay, I get slow days every now and then during the holiday season. Some folks just aren't grabbing their gifts and treats yet, but they will."
"Wow! That must be a lot of ponies.”
Cinnamon finished shuttering up the windows and locking them up. "Hey, if you can, stop by early tomorrow, yeah? I think you'll want to take a crack at making the peppermint bark; it's our best seller."
Pinkie tilted her head. "Oh, sure. What time's early, anyway? I just realized that I never checked out the store hours."
"Don't worry about the store hours, that's only important to the customers. As for me, I usually like to start the first batch of baking for the breakfast treats—the donuts and such—by seven o' clock at the latest so that I can open up the shop at nine."
"Okay, that's no problem, I got here at eight today, so that's just an hour difference," Pinkie said with a shrug and a smile. "No biggie, Miss Swirl."
"Oh, no, that's just when I start the actual baking process. I usually have to spend about an hour or so before that cleaning and sanitizing the utensils and stations, as well as preparing all of the ingredients for quick access. I get here around five o'clock to get started. I want you here no later than six."
Pinkie's jaw dropped. She knew that bakers like the Cakes got up early to prepare and make the first batch of goods for the day, but she'd never been a part of that early morning routine before. She was usually just delegated to the lunchtime and closing time rushes so that the Cakes could take a break. In fact, the last time that Pinkie could remember waking up at that early of an hour was when she still lived with her parents and worked on the rock farm.
"Pinkie? Can you be here at six or not?" Cinnamon asked.
Pinkie shook off her surprise, then quickly nodded. "Ma'am, yes ma'am! You can count on me, Miss Swirl! I'll be here with bells on!"
"Good… though, maybe forget the bells," Cinnamon said with a smile. "Get used to those hours, by the way. I'll probably have you get here around that time for as long as you're working here. We're gonna be getting to the holiday party catering season within the next week or two and I'll need all the hooves I can get."
Pinkie nodded again. "You got it. So, I'll see you tomorrow?"
"Yup, see you tomorrow, Pinkie. Enjoy your evening."
"You too."
With that, Cinnamon waved Pinkie off and headed down the street towards wherever it was that she lived, leaving Pinkie alone in front of the store with nothing more than a small box with a couple of treats to take home, as well as a larger box with all of her old clothes, except the roller skates. Pinkie was keeping those; the rest she was thinking about donating.
Pinkie took a deep breath. "Welp, I guess it won't be all bad. If the Cakes can do it, so can I." Then, she suddenly gasped. "Wait! This means I'll get to wake up at the same time as Applejack! Yes! We can be early-morning buddies!"
With that thought in mind, Pinkie giggled with joy and bounced—yes, bounced, with the roller skates on—her way down the street though crowds of ponies, heading off on the hour-long roll—hour-long bounce?—towards Southeast Point.
*****
Pinkie hadn't memorized any street names just yet in Central Plaza, but she had a nose for things when it came to a sense of direction; in other words, her nose knew just where she needed to go, so she followed her nose, which was naturally very easy to do since it was right on the front of her face. Now, it would be strange if she were following her tail, but she wasn't, thank you very much. That only happened once.
As she rounded another corner that her nose was telling her to go around, Pinkie bumped right into somepony as she came down from a bounce just as made to spring back up. The impact sent her box of treats flying into the air, its lid somehow popping open all on its own in comical fashion, all of its sweet, tasty contents miraculously soaring upwards in a perfectly straight line.
Pinkie fell back on her butt with an "oof!", and stared in shock and horror as the sweets toppled upwards. She scrambled to get to her hooves, but in her haste, the roller skates made that quite frankly impossible, turning her legs into a veritable tornado beneath her.
The box came tumbling down, followed by the sweets one-by-one.
Luckily, there was another pony there to catch the precious cargo, the one that Pinkie had bumped into. The box fell into her hooves first, followed by each of the sweet treats with perfect timing and precision; the other pony didn't even need to move to catch the whole batch in one go.
"Phew…" Pinkie breathed. "Thanks! You saved my—"
Pinkie now got a good look at the other pony, and did so with a wide-eyed stare of sheer bewilderment.
The other pony was a mare, like her, and an earth pony, also like her. Her coat was a pretty shade of pink, just a little darker than Pinkie's, and her straight-combed mane and tail were a different shade of pink, also just a little darker than Pinkie's. Her eyes, though, those were the exact same shade as Pinkie's.
The mare wore what Pinkie could only describe as a schoolfilly uniform, with a black jacket over a white top, a plaid gray tie, a ridiculously—no, scandalously, as Rarity would say—short, pleated plaid gray skirt, as well as a pair of thin white stockings on her hindlegs which were particularly tight at the top.
The other mare also had a look of bewilderment as she stared at Pinkie, holding the box she'd just caught steady in one hoof.
The two of them just stood and stared at one another for a long moment, frozen in time. Other ponies scooted around them as they went about their days, grumbling about a couple of weirdos blocking traffic.
The other mare spoke first. "Uh… hey. You dropped this," she said as she passed the box over to a now-stable Pinkie.
"Oh! Thanks!" Pinkie said as she took the box. All of the treats inside were safe and sound despite their impromptu air time, so she shut the box and breathed another sigh of relief. "Sorry about bumping into you. I wasn't watching where I was bouncing. You saved my life! I mean, my dessert!"
"Hey, no problem, nothing's broken," the other mare said with a grin. "You're not hurt, are you? You took quite a fall."
Pinkie waved that thought off with her hoof. "Naw, I'm fine. I landed right on my butt, and I've got a lot of cushion back there, like a big ol' bowl of gelatin." She emphasized the point by hopping to her hooves—steadily this time—and giving her rump a little shake. "Woo! Look at it wiggle!"
The other mare raised an eyebrow. "Damn, girl, you've got some serious junk in your trunk."
"Thanks! My friend Dashie says I could bounce a bit off it. Say, what's your name, Miss-Looks-Just-Like-Me-But-Not-Quite?"
"I'm Red Velvet," the other mare said, offering her hoof.
Pinkie gasped as she took the other mare's hoof in hers and shook it vigorously. "Oh. My. Goodness. I love your name. Those are my favorite cupcakes!" She gasped again. "Oh! Your cutie mark is a cupcake, too! Perfect!"
"Thanks! What's your name, then, Miss-Also-Looks-Just-Like-Me-But-Not-Quite?"
Pinkie hadn't stopped shaking the other mare's hoof yet. "I'm Pinkie Pie! Nice to meet you! Say, are you getting a huge sense of déjà vu right now? Have we met before? And no, it's not just the fact that we look alike talking here, I really feel like we have."
Velvet shook her head, but had a curious expression on her face. "I'm pretty sure that we haven't, but you're right! It's like… there's this little feeling in the way, way back of my head that's telling me we've met before. Total déjà vu. Ooh, maybe we were friends in a past life? Or enemies? Lovers? No, not that last one."
"Ooh! Ooh! I've got it!" Pinkie said, raising her hoof in the air. "We're long-lost twin sisters, separated at birth! That's gotta be it. I mean, look at us: exactly alike. Same pretty faces, same blue eyes, same cute hoofsies, same rockin' tushies. You just style your mane differently from me, that's all."
Velvet glanced back at her butt briefly. "Huh, yeah, I guess my tush is rockin'." She turned back to Pinkie. "So, where were you headed off to in such a hurry that you bumped right into me?"
"Me? Oh, just heading home from work."
"You live around here?"
"Yup! At Southeast Point, actually, which isn't far at all. Speaking of which, I really oughta get going, or I'll be late for dinner with my friends." She waved. "It was nice meeting you Long-Lost-Twin-Sister-That-Was-Separated-At-Birth!"
Before Pinkie could bounce away, Velvet grabbed her hoof. "Whoa, wait! Not so fast, Pink."
Pinkie proceeded to bounce a bit slower. Not as in taking slower bounces, but as in slow-motion straight out of the movies. "Yeah? What's up?" she asked, her voice also slowed a bit to match her pace.
"You said you live at Southeast Point?"
"Yeah?"
Velvet smiled and pointed at herself. "I live at Southeast Point, too."
Pinkie returned to normal speed and stopped moving. "Really? You do?"
"Yeah! My sisters and I just moved in this morning. I'm just taking a walk around the neighborhood to scope it out, y'know? Find what kind of joints there are to eat at and stuff."
"Wowie! What an incredibly convenient, lucky circumstance that doesn't seem at all suspicious! You wanna walk back there together with me? I mean, you can walk, and I can roll." Pinkie rolled in place on her skates to demonstrate.
"Sure! Uh, one thing though."
"Yeah?"
Velvet pointed the opposite direction that Pinkie had been bouncing. "Southeast Point is this way."
"Oh? Huh." Pinkie scratched her head. "How'd I get that mixed—" She gasped, and stared cross-eyed at her nose. "Nose! You weren't leading me home, you were leading me to my new friend, you big goofball! I mean, thanks, but yeesh, what if we got lost?"
Velvet blinked. "What's all this about your nose?"
"Nothing." Pinkie did an about-face and started bouncing again. "Come on, Red, let's get home!" As Velvet turned around, Pinkie went cross-eyed again, pointed at her snout, and whispered, "We'll talk about this later, Nose."
As the pair walked—no, Velvet walked, Pinkie rolled—they got to talking, of course, because that's just what you did when you were walking or rolling with a new friend so that you could get to know them better. Pinkie told Velvet all about her new job, and how much she enjoyed baking and making ponies happy, and how much she loved parties, and how much she loved her friends.
Velvet just seemed to nod along to most of it, but occasionally Pinkie noticed her getting distracted by something elsewhere, glancing back at other ponies as they walked by or glancing at the other side of the street.
"Hey Red, what's got your attention, huh?" Pinkie asked.
Velvet jerked to attention. "Huh? Oh! Sorry, was I distracted?"
"A little bit, yeah. You just started staring off into space for a minute there, and I was in the middle of talking about how this one time I threw a party that was so much fun that we accidentally got the Ponyville Fire Brigade called on us."
"Oh. Sorry," Velvet said, sheepish as… well, a sheep.
"You said that already. So what's got you so distracted, huh? I'm not… gulp, boring you, am I?" she asked with an exaggerated gulp.
"No no, it's not that," Velvet said, waving her hooves.
"So what is it?"
"Him," Velvet said, pointing off towards the other end of the street.
Pinkie raised an eyebrow and looked, but couldn't see anything that could possibly be more engaging than the Fire Brigade story. "'Him'? Who? What? Huh?"
Velvet rolled her eyes, then grabbed the top and bottom of Pinkie's head to turn it in the direction she herself was looking. "Him."
Pinkie found herself staring across the street at a rather buff-looking white-coated stallion that was in the midst of washing the one of the storefront windows. He wasn't wearing much besides a button-up shirt that was currently very much unbuttoned and soaked with water. Every swipe of the squeegee across the window made the stallion's muscles tense and bulge, easy to see through the wet shirt.
"That guy?" Pinkie asked. "What about him?"
"What do you mean, 'what about him'?" Velvet asked incredulously. "He's a total hunk. Look at him! Don't tell me he doesn't do a little something for you?"
Pinkie shrugged. "I don't see what the fuss is about."
Velvet's jaw dropped. "Do you need to see an eye doctor or something? Maybe that's why you had no idea you were going the wrong way earlier: you need to get your eyes checked."
"Pshaw, that's silly. My eyes work great!" Pinkie said, briefly crossing her eyes. "I just can't see what about him's got you distracted. You find him attractive or something?"
"Uh duh," Velvet said, biting her lip.
"Ah, okay, I get it then. I know I get googly-eyed like that when I see somepony I like. So what are you waiting for? Don't let me keep you, girlfriend," Pinkie said, gently slapping Velvet's shoulder. "Go introduce yourself!"
Velvet groaned and rolled her eyes. "Nah, it'd just be a waste of my time. I live with my sisters right now, right? Well, we've got a couple of ground rules for living together, one of which is 'don't bring any dudes home'. It's not fair! I've got needs! Sexy, carnal needs!"
"Aww, I'm sorry to hear that," Pinkie said, gently rubbing Velvet's back. "I mean, if you need a workaround to take care of those things, you could always bring a mare home with you, right? I hear this city is allll about loopholes, and let me tell you sister, that's one heck of a loophole."
"Eh, sorry, no go on that one. I'm one hundred and ten percent not into mares like that, and definitely not desperate enough to get curious about it." Velvet shrugged and sighed. "It's alright. One of these days, I'm gonna get my own place, and I'm gonna bring studs home whenever I want!"
Pinkie leapt up and cheered, "Yeah! You go, girl!"
"So anyway, sorry about getting distracted. I'll try not to let my eyes wander around the sausage buffet we've got going on out here, no matter how hungry I am."
"It's okay, Red, I've got no problem if you're window shopping for dudes while we're hanging out. We can talk later." Pinkie gasped. "Ooh! You should come to dinner with me and my friends! I'm sure that they'd love to meet you." She gasped again. "Ooh! You should bring your sisters, too! If you guys live at the same building we do, I'm sure we'll be seeing lots of each other!"
"Oh, yeah, I'm sure we will," Velvet said with a smile. "I'm sure we will…"
Pinkie smiled. "Boy, that didn't sound foreboding at all!"
Chapter Thirteen: Convention
Dinnertime was fast approaching, and Fluttershy hadn't been expecting to do very much in the long run besides just putting chairs around their dining table and picking out Dolor flavors for everypony. Nopony had really picked favorite flavors yet and so they'd mostly just settled on trying everything tonight to try to narrow it down a bit; it wasn't quite as classy as those wine tastings that Rarity went to sometimes, but it sounded similar.
But then Pinkie came home from work, and brought with her a pretty reasonable amount of knowledge on how to properly cook the stuff, and more importantly mix them, and that's when everything changed. None of them had known that they could mix these pastes together to make all sorts of other unique flavors; apparently, Lockwood, Flathoof, and Winter had all forgotten to mention it. Pinkie had at least mentioned that it was a complicated process, so maybe that was why.
Fluttershy knew she still needed to get some recipes from Twilight and was actually looking forward to it now, but Pinkie's know-how would suffice for the time being to at least make tonight's dinner a little bit unique compared to what they'd gotten used to so far.
Pinkie had also brought with her a new friend, Red Velvet, who made Fluttershy do a double-take to make sure she wasn't seeing double. Thankfully this new mare looked and acted differently enough that Fluttershy was able to eliminate the idea that there was a Mirror Pool in this world, too. It was probably the clothes that helped the most, which for some reason made Fluttershy's face feel hot.
Apparently the pair also had stopped at Velvet's apartment on the way up—she lived in the same complex—to grab her sister to bring over for dinner to meet everypony. Fluttershy recognized the name from earlier in the day and so wasn't surprised when said sister turned out to be Gray Skies, who she was actually happy to see. She wouldn't mind getting to know Gray a little better while around all of her other friends; she'd be less intimidated that way.
So the table was now set for more than Fluttershy was expecting, which meant that everypony would be crowded together. It would thus be herself, Rarity, Pinkie, Rainbow, and Twilight—Lockwood said that Applejack would almost assuredly not be joining them—as well as Velvet, Gray, and their other sister, Insipid; Velvet and Gray had left a note for her in the apartment, since she hadn't come home yet.
"So, this is your place?" Gray asked Fluttershy as she helped set the table—Pinkie and Velvet were busy in the kitchen making some concoctions that Fluttershy just hoped were edible.
Fluttershy smiled and nodded. "It is. Home… sweet home," she said, hoping she hid her disappointment well enough; this apartment was home for now, but it was far from the home she was used to and was hardly sweet.
"Hmm. It's cozy," Gray noted, nodding in what Fluttershy was sure was approval, though she didn't know why.
"So, um… Red Velvet's your sister, huh?" Fluttershy asked, tilting her head towards the kitchen. "She seems… nice."
Gray grunted and shrugged. "I guess. My sisters are too active for my tastes. That's why they usually just leave me home alone."
Fluttershy didn't really question that. She knew well enough that siblings could be drastically different from one another, just like friends could be. Her brother Zephyr was as different from her as possible, a constant source of frustration whenever she visited her parents and found that again he had moved back in after giving up on whatever job he'd been getting into. How she ended up with such a lazy mooch for a brother, she didn't know.
Twilight was the next pony to arrive home, and she seemed in rather high spirits. "Hey, everypony! I'm home!" She noticed Gray and Fluttershy standing together near the dining table. "Oh! Hello. I didn't know we were having company. I would have insisted Winter join us instead of going out by herself."
Fluttershy smiled and gestured meekly at Gray. "This is… my new… um…" She hesitated, not wanting to assume that she and Gray were friends just yet. "This is Gray Skies. She… lives a few floors down from us. I met her earlier today while helping Lockwood with some work."
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Miss Skies," Twilight said with a smile of her own. "I'm Twilight Sparkle."
"It's just Gray," Gray said. "Nopony calls me Miss Skies."
Twilight chuckled. "Alright then, it's nice to meet you, Gray. You're joining us for dinner, I take it?"
"Yeah. Pinkie invited me."
Twilight raised an eyebrow. "Pinkie did? Not Fluttershy?" she asked, looking at the latter for confirmation.
Fluttershy nodded. "Pinkie invited her new friend over for dinner, and when she found out that she lived with her sisters here, she… well, she invited them all. Gray here is one of her sisters, so…"
"Oh, that's wonderful! The more the merrier, right? It might get a little cramped in here, but I'm sure we'll make due." Twilight glanced around. "Where is Pinkie anyway?"
"I'm in here, Twilight!" called Pinkie from the kitchen. "Just whipping up some dinner! Everything should be ready pretty soon! You're gonna love it!"
"Okay!" Twilight called back as she made for the dinner table to take a seat. She paused midway into her chair. "Wait, she's whipping up dinner? I thought we just had those packets to eat?"
"Oh, Pinkie found out that you can cook and mix them in certain ways to make them taste different," Fluttershy said. "I mean, um… we already sort of knew that first part, but Pinkie found out some actual recipes that require mixing the colors." She paused. "Speaking of which, could you maybe find some recipes tomorrow to bring home for me?"
"Sure, I'd love to! Looking forward to trying out some yourself, huh?"
"Yes. I don't want Pinkie to have to cook for us after spending the day working. I'm here… alone… all day anyway, so I should be the one handling it." If Twilight noticed the pauses, she didn't show it.
There was a knock at the window. Fluttershy got up and headed over, first lifting up the protective air filter screen then the window itself to reveal Rainbow just outside. "Oh, hello Rainbow. Welcome home."
"Hey, Shy," Rainbow said as she squeezed in; the window wasn't exactly made for a pony to fit through, but Rainbow was nimble enough to do it. "Sorry I came in this way, but I didn't feel like taking the stairs. I've already got my workout in for the day, y'know?"
Rainbow turned and saw Gray sitting at the dinner table. "Oh. Hey." She looked at Fluttershy. "We've got guests?"
"This is Gray Skies," Fluttershy said, gesturing towards the towering pegasus. "She lives a few floors down from us. I met her earlier today, and Pinkie invited her to dinner, along with her sisters."
Rainbow tilted her head up. "'Sup. I'm Rainbow Dash."
Gray did the same. "'Sup."
Rainbow nodded. "Yeah, she's cool. She can stay."
As Fluttershy looked between the two briefly, she couldn't help but notice that their eye colors were remarkably similar. Normally that wouldn't be something anypony would find odd—she and Pinkie had similar eye colors, after all—but it just seemed so… uncannily exact. But it didn't bother anypony else and Fluttershy just considered it an odd thing to notice, so she didn't think anything further of it.
"Welcome home, Rainbow," Twilight said with a little wave. "How was your tryout, or whatever it was you were doing? Sorry, I'm not quite up on how these sports things work. My brother's the sports buff in the family."
Rainbow's grin turned particularly smug as she took a seat at the table. "Oh, you know, nothing special. I just got offered a spot in the striker position on a semi-pro skyball team, so hey, whatever, no biggie."
Fluttershy smiled. "Wow, way to go, Rainbow. I'm very happy for you."
"Thanks, Shy."
"Woohoo," said Gray, though she wasn't really looking anywhere in Rainbow's direction and seemed oddly univested in the conversation.
"You know, I don't really understand much about skyball," Twilight said, tapping her chin. "It's not a popular sport among non-pegasi, really. So I do understand that's great you got onto a semi-professional team, but is being a striker a good thing?"
"It's just one of the positions, like a linebacker or a quarterback."
Twilight's expression remained blank.
"First base? Shortstop?"
No change.
Rainbow rolled her eyes. "Strikers are the team's offensive players whose job is to get possession of the ball and bring it to the goal to score. Simple stuff." She cockily put her hooves behind her head. "It's only the most prestigious position on the team. I mean, I know there are three on the team, but like, those three players are usually the most popular ones with fans."
"Fans love seeing the strikers fly," Fluttershy added with a proud little grin. They have to be very quick and agile, so they're usually the most interesting to watch."
"You know about skyball, Fluttershy?" Twilight asked, seemingly surprised.
"Oh, yes. I've never played it myself, but I always liked to watch it back at flight school." She gave Rainbow a smile. "Rainbow was on the team, and I came to every game so… so that I could support my friend."
She wouldn't tell anypony that she went because she had a crush on one of the team's other strikers, a cute colt named Bumbershoot. Even Rainbow didn't know, and Fluttershy would keep it that way.
"You ever play skyball, Gray?" Rainbow asked, sizing the huge mare up. "You look like you'd be an ace blocker. You're built like a house."
Gray shrugged. "Nah. Too active for me. I watch sometimes, though."
"Oh yeah! Speaking of watching, if you guys want to watch any games, I hear they… uh, 'broadcast' them, or something like that? They'll be showing them on that Teevee thingy. If you guys can't make it to the games in person, you can at least watch from home!"
Twilight's eyes widened. "Really? Wow! I'd love to have a chance to watch you in action, Rainbow. Let me know the schedule of games when you can, and I'll try and watch them whenever I'm not at work."
"Will do, Twi. Say, how was work, anyway? Did you and Winter find anything… interesting?"
Twilight nodded. "Yes, Winter and I collected a bunch of reading materials to go over, mostly historical stuff for that project she's working on. I'm going to meet her in the lounge after dinner so that we can start reading through some of it together."
"I hope you find something that'll help her," Fluttershy said.
She knew about the cover story Winter and Twilight had cooked up if anypony asked, and it was certainly believable enough in Fluttershy's mind. She didn't know how Gray would react if the truth came out, and was steadily finding herself worried that she would. Would Gray even want to be friends if she found out that Fluttershy was an… alien?
Then, the door opened and drew Fluttershy away from those thoughts, and Rarity made her grand entrance. "Helloooo, I'm hoooome, darlings!"
As she walked into the room, Fluttershy noticed that Rarity had on a new dress, and a lovely one as well; Fluttershy was the only other pony in their group of friends with an eye for fashion, so she knew what qualified as "lovely", and that dress definitely qualified.
It was made of black lace that hugged the unicorn's figure, dark enough across most of it that her white coat just barely peeked through. It was long enough to trail down her hindquarters in what Rarity would call an "alluring, yet appropriate" way, as in it left just enough to the imagination to attract attention. It wasn't decorated with Rarity's trademark gemstones, though, so Fluttershy knew it wasn't one of Rarity's dresses.
Still, it made Rarity look lovely.
Rarity had also come in with another unicorn, this one with a charcoal-colored coat and a bright yellow—not blonde—mane. She wore a dress practically identical to Rarity's, only hers was purple to properly contrast with her coat and mane colors; her figure was much like Rarity's was and so the contours of the dress hugged her close. The two could almost pass for sisters, especially since this new unicorn's eyes were an uncanny match for Rarity's own.
This other mare would also look lovely, if not for the fact that her mane was a mess.
"I brought along a guest!" Rarity announced as she gestured proudly to the other unicorn. "Everypony, this is Insipid—"
The other unicorn gasped and waved at Gray, with the kind of enthusiasm Fluttershy didn't see in adult ponies besides Pinkie. "Hey, sis! Like, what're you doing here? Oh, did we move again? 'Cause, that would be, like, major unfresh. I was just getting used to the new place!"
Fluttershy recognized the name immediately; Lockwood's paperwork had mentioned Gray's other sister as Insipid, which meant that she must have gotten the note that Gray and Velvet said they'd left for her. Wait, no, that couldn't be right; Rarity said she brought Insipid as a guest. What was going on?
Gray gave a half-hearted wave. "Hey. Got invited to dinner."
"Me too!" Insipid said with a bubbly, airy tone. She pulled Rarity in for a side hug. "My new friend Rarity, like, asked me to come along! We're totally besties now. Cha!"
"She and I are the inaugural members of Lovers' Lane's new fashion line, Rising Star," Rarity explained with a proud grin. "I'll be designing and fashioning the dresses, and Insipid here will be modeling them. It's all part of an attempt by the established fashion companies to highlight new talent. Isn't that wonderful?"
"She's gonna be your new dress model?" Rainbow asked. She briefly gave Insipid a once-over; Fluttershy could see her eyes lingering a bit around the other mare's rear, which was perfectly understandable. "Yeah, I can see her shaking it down the runway. Good pick, Rares."
Rarity ignored—wisely—Rainbow's not-too-subtle half-flirt. "I invited her so that once we're all done with dinner, I can give her a little make-over. So if anypony needs to use the bathroom for getting cleaned up, fair warning that I'm calling dibs on it right now."
"Yeah!" Insipid cheered, apparently not noticing or acknowledging Rainbow either. "She's gonna do up my mane, and like, give me a hooficure, and, um… some eyeliner and… uh…" She looked to Rarity desperately for help finishing her thought.
"And dye your mane as well, dear," Rarity said, pawing at the other mare's locks. "Your color is generally fine, but I believe you might have used too much dye; it's horribly oversaturated."
"Yeah! That! And like, when she's all done, I'm gonna look…" She paused, holding her hooves together like she was in a play, staring off-stage at an unseen sunset. "Beautiful…"
Fluttershy watched the display with awe. Pinkie was a bit flighty at times, but this mare put Pinkie to shame. But if anypony could take her under their metaphorical wing and bring out the best in them, it was Rarity.
Rarity smiled sweetly at her new friend, then turned to Gray. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, dear, I didn't mean to ignore you. My manners are just all over the place today, it seems. Did I hear correctly that you're Insipid's sister?"
Gray nodded. "Yeah. Name's Gray Skies. Just Gray will do."
"It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Rarity, by the way. I take it you were invited to dinner as well? By whom, if I might ask?"
"Pinkie. She and my sister Red made friends, I guess. They invited me over. Normally I'd say no, but hey." Gray shrugged, looking lazily towards Fluttershy. "Free meal."
Fluttershy wondered if Gray would've said no if she'd been the one to ask her. After all, Gray had offered to spend time together, right?
Rarity and Insipid each took seats as well, and it wasn't long after that that Pinkie and Velvet came bounding in from the kitchen and loaded the crowded table with food. Fluttershy was impressed to see that Pinkie had made such a presentation; none of it looked like anything she'd ever seen before, but it all definitely looked different, in a good way. The little plate of treats, though, looked particularly authentic, but Pinkie assured them they were just as "fakey-fake" as the rest.
"Okay, so, I put together a few things based on what I've learned so far about this Dolor stuff," Pinkie said as she took her own seat. "I've gotta work on my presentation when it comes to healthier foods, though. It just doesn't work the same as it does for the sweet treats!"
"It still looks rather appetizing, doesn't it?" Rarity said as she eyed a dish full of the watery Red stuff that looked like it had been mashed up into liquid and topped with bits of Green. "What's this one supposed to be?"
"Tomato soup! Just take some frozen Red, heat it up in a pan with water, and boom! Tomato soup!"
She then leaned over and carefully stage-whispered so that everypony could hear, "The Green bits on top are supposed to be parsley, but I don't know if they worked right or not. Green's kind of picky. So y'know… eat those at your own risk. Might be broccoli, might be cabbage, I dunno."
With that, everypony served themselves and dug in, sharing stories about their days around the table as they ate. Fluttershy noticed that Rainbow's attention was consistently shooting towards Velvet, then back to Pinkie, to whom she would whisper something that Fluttershy couldn't hear, but based on Rainbow's wings Fluttershy was pretty sure what the conversation was about.
And as Fluttershy sat there and listened attentively to the conversations she could hear, sharing occasional looks at Gray who was also sitting quietly and attentively, she had the strangest feeling that things were going to be okay.
*****
Shadows played across the expanse of Silvertongue's private dining room, the ambience kept pleasantly dim by a series of flickering wax candles. A solid black tablecloth covered the large dining table, which with the rest of the dimmed atmosphere made the candles seem as though they were floating. Plates, bowls, glasses, forks and spoons; the table was set for ten, as always.
At present, it seated just three. Dawn sat on one of the long ends of the table, Havoc directly across from her, with Silvertongue seated at the head of the table between the two, as was appropriate for the head of the family.
A veritable smorgasbord of foods—real foods, because Pandora Tower was far too good for those inferior Dolor synthetics—lay spread out across the table within reach, all of it respectable and healthy, essential for providing the key nutrients needed as part of perfectly balanced diets. The spread was absolutely lavish: dishes of fully-loaded green salads, a broth-based vegetable soup, fluffy, buttery rolls, little sandwiches with various fillings, and for desert, sliced fruits and berries in syrup.
Dawn possessed the sort of perfectly-practiced etiquette that was expected of somepony of her bearing, much like her father did, and so she followed his example as the meal was served by Pandora Tower's chef, Crème Brûlée.
When Havoc attempted to reach for a roll too soon, Dawn was quick to silently chastise her with just a look of clear incredulous contempt, and she continued with these looks towards Havoc throughout dinner, sometimes adding a clearing of her throat for extra emphasis.
When Havoc started to unfold her napkin before their father did? Look.
When she went to grab her fork and start eating before their father did? Look.
When she wiped with her napkin instead of dabbed? Look.
When she chewed with her mouth open? When she put her hooves or elbows on the table? When she used her napkin to pick her nose? Look, look, look.
Dawn couldn't but wonder that there was no way the two were related. She couldn't possibly have a sister this uncultured. Even Insipid knew how to follow instructions, and Insipid was an idiot.
"You don't need to castigate your sister's manners on my account, Dawn," Silvertongue said as he served himself a second helping of salad, a little grin on his face.
"But Father, her table etiquette is atrocious," Dawn said, condemningly eyeing Havoc, who had started to reach across the table to grab the pepper shaker, giving her another look. "It is absolutely unacceptable for a pony to dine in such a fashion."
"What's the big deal, sis?" Havoc asked as she grabbed the pepper anyway; Dawn didn't dare grasp it away, as that would be just as rude. "This ain't some fancy-schmancy dinner party. This is a family dinner." She glanced at all the empty seats. "Just, y'know, without most of the family here."
"That is utterly opposed to the intention of my denunciation."
Havoc blinked. "Huh?"
"That is not the point!"
"Psh. Yeah, whatever. Kinda sucks that Gray, Red, and Insipid gotta chow down on that fake Dolor crap while we get the good eats, huh? Sucks to be them, I mean, ha! Up top!" Havoc held her hoof over the table expecting a high hoof that definitely wasn't coming.
Dawn's eye twitched angrily. "It is most unfortunate for them, yes, but I do not think they would appreciate your jocularity regarding the issue."
"On that, I agree," Silvertongue said with a disapproving look of his own towards Havoc. "With the situation as it is, I required some of you to house yourselves in a standard city residence. It makes contact more believable and convenient for both parties. You, Dawn, and Curaçao were permitted to stay here because of the space allotted. However, I would be happy to send you to live with your other sisters if you find their situation so amusing."
Havoc frowned. "No, that's okay, I, uh… I like it here in the Tower. Sorry Pops, I didn't mean nothing by it, won't happen again." She looked at Dawn. "Say, where is Curaçao, anyway? I thought she'd be joining us for dinner? It's rude to be late. Where's all your huffing and puffing towards her?"
Dawn stuck her nose in the air. "Curaçao has already informed me that she would be dining elsewhere for dinner this evening, as her assignment required an additional period of time for her to accomplish, which she did not account for prior to this morning's deployment."
"She contacted you?" Silvertongue asked, briefly pausing his fork and raising an eyebrow. "How? None of you were provided with communication equipment. Such devices would draw suspicion, as they are not exactly common."
At this, Dawn gave her father a proud smile. "It is a rather elementary spell I developed, Father. Curaçao was assisting me in assessing its efficacy, so that I might expand its influence to the remainder of my sisters once the evaluation is complete."
Silvertongue set his fork down on his plate; proper etiquette, Dawn noted, not letting it touch the table. "And are you satisfied with your results thus far?"
"Thus far, my expectations have been met, which is to say that the spell is flawless. Curaçao and I can communicate across nearly the entire city's area, assuming I am here in Pandora Tower, and either one of us may initiate the connection. It is a vast improvement over the prevailing telepathy spells utilized in other circles."
"It certainly is. The most practiced of those have a range of only one hundred feet."
Her proud grin grew wider. "With additional effort, I surmise that I can amplify the range further, perhaps as far as the continent's edge, if not further."
"Fascinating." Silvertongue leaned back in his chair, then gestured briefly to Havoc. "Demonstrate, if you would?"
Dawn tilted her head. "You wish me to demonstrate the spell? Now?"
"I would. Such a spell would drastically increase the efficiency and effectiveness of you and your sisters on this assignment, as you could communicate issues as they crop up rather than hours after the fact. This is a tactical boon, so I wish to see how well it works."
Dawn nodded, then lit up her horn briefly to extend the spell's influence over Havoc as well. It was rather simple, and technically Havoc didn't even need to be in the room with her, since they shared a sisterly bond that made them familiar with one another; she couldn't use it on a stranger, for example. The process was also undetectable apart from Dawn's initial casting, and would last indefinitely, unless she purposefully dispelled it.
Havoc tilted her head. "So, uh… did it work? Can I talk in your head now, sis?"
Dawn nodded, and communicated directly with Havoc without words. "Affirmative, Havoc, you can. Simply 'think' your words aloud and—"
"Whoooaa! I can hear you in my head! This is awesome! Can you hear me? Helloooo! Echo!"
"Affirmative again, I can hear you," Dawn thought disdainfully. She turned to her father. "The connection has been established, Father. How would you prefer I demonstrate it?"
Silvertongue tilted his head, then leaned over his seat to whisper in Dawn's ear, "Tell her to touch her nose with her left hoof, and raise her right hoof straight up."
Dawn nodded, waited for Silvertongue to return to a comfortable seating position, then mentally communicated the thought to Havoc: "Touch your nose with your left hoof, and raise your right hoof straight up."
Havoc nodded, and followed the instructions precisely.
Silvertongue hummed. "A wonderful proof of concept thus far. As a further demonstration, this time of the distance and ability to communicate with those outside the room, can you tell me where Curaçao might currently be?"
"Certainly, Father. One moment." She took a short breath. "Curaçao, where are you currently located? Father wishes for an update on your position."
Curaçao's voice came through the connection loud and clear. "Ah, Bonsoir, ma sœur. I am in the middle of something at the moment, oui? I will likely be returning home within the next hour or so. Do not wait up for me."
"I did not inquire as to your scheduling conflicts, sister, I inquired as to your location. Where are you?"
"Ma sœur, pardonne-moi, but I cannot divulge where I am at the moment, because that is part of my assignment, oui? If Papa is asking you about this, then he will understand. Now, if that is all, please, do not distract me any further. Au revoir!"
Dawn grumbled, then turned to her father. "She is refusing to divulge her location, Father."
Silvertongue smiled. "Good, that is precisely what I was hoping for."
"It… it is?" Dawn asked, eyebrow up.
"Your sister's assignment plays on her natural talents for subterfuge, deception, and investigation. Wherever she is at the moment and whatever she is doing, I am certain that she is performing amiably. Her assignment is far different from any of yours, you understand, and she will achieve better results without meticulous oversight."
"But she can still tell us when she's gonna miss dinner?" Havoc asked through a mouthful of sandwich, earning another look from Dawn.
"If something causes a deviation in her schedule, yes, I would expect her to at least keep you and your sisters informed," Silvertongue said with a grin. "Just as I also expect her to deliver information to any of you that may be of use in your own tasks. But as to where she is or what exactly she's doing? Those are unimportant to any of you."
Silvertongue then glanced at the clock on the wall. "Ah, but it is getting late, and I have some additional business to attend to. I'll take my leave shortly, if you two wish to dine any further."
He poured himself a cup of coffee, which Dawn understood as the proper signal etiquette-wise that dinner was concluded, and she and Havoc could leave whenever they wished. Given his recent statement, though, she knew he meant that they should leave sooner rather than later and was just being polite; she wouldn't expect anything less of him.
"I believe that it might be best if we retire for the evening instead," Dawn said with a nod. She turned to Havoc. "Come along, sister. Leave Father to his business."
Though Dawn rose from her seat—and Silvertongue politely rose as well—Havoc did not just yet. "What? But I'm still—"
"Havoc. Now," Dawn communicated via the new telepathic bond, giving Havoc yet another look.
Havoc rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine. I guess it might be cool to check out my new room." She waved farewell to Silvertongue. "Later, Pops! See you tomorrow!"
Before she left, she grabbed a few rolls, even stuffing one in her mouth. Dawn could practically hear her sister cackling as she did it.
"Havoc!" Dawn hissed.
Through the telepathy, Havoc said: "Fuck you, sis!"
But Havoc was already sipping out of the room faster than Dawn could blink, leaving Dawn seething.
"Don't worry about her, Dawn," Silvertongue chuckled, taking a sip of his evening coffee. "Your sister isn't cut from the same cloth as you. None of your sisters are; you're all unique in your own ways, and have your own strengths and weaknesses. Remember that. Remember that even you likely have some quality that your sisters may view as a negative."
Dawn put her nose in the air. "I cannot fathom a single attribute of my character that anypony could judge as anything less than exemplary." She made her way for the door. "Good night, Father."
Silvertongue smiled, surely proud of her confidence. "Good night, Dawn. Rest well."
*****
It was rather late at night when Curaçao arrived back at Pandora Tower, heading for a hidden entrance near the perimeter that required special keycards that only residents of the Tower possessed. They were meant to be used when Tower workers needed to get to and from their "day jobs", though mostly it was so they could entertain themselves out in the city during their free time.
For Curaçao it was much easier to get in than the average Tower resident, since she could morph her appearance so precisely that her entire body became transparent, utterly invisible to the naked eye. Others usually used disguises and had to be extremely aware of their surroundings; some, like her sister Dawn, could just teleport inside. Pegasi like her sister Havoc couldn't fly in, naturally, so she'd have had to do this too.
She'd missed her first chance at having dinner with her family since the infusion process that gave her these strange new powers, and she was rather sad that she had to. But that was just the nature of her work; she had to ensure that every piece of the puzzle that was in front of her was carefully placed in its proper spot, and that often meant long nights alone more often than not.
Once she'd entered into the secret tunnel that led into the Tower, she readjusted her appearance to her natural, blue-coated, red-maned self. She was glad her new abilities also applied to her clothing, which was the same silver jumpsuit she'd worn during the morning's test. If it wasn't, things would be complicated and awkward if she needed to take on the forms of others. She'd have to wander around nude to maintain her invisibility, for one, and need to find other ponies' clothes for another.
She shifted it now into a dark gray moto jacket and an olive green beret. Simple, fashionable, comfortable.
After making her way through the tunnel, she ascended the elevator up to the fiftieth floor, which was used mostly for data storage and a single office/apartment combination that belonged to her father's secretary, Shroud. Curaçao had important business to attend to, and Shroud had key access to all of the data in her office and was the only pony in the Tower, including her father, that did.
When she quietly entered said office, however, she was expecting to be alone, considering the late hour. Instead, she found herself looking right at the office's lone occupant, a pink-coated unicorn mare with a red mane not unlike Curaçao's own, a thick pair of horn-rimmed glasses over her nose. She was wearing a set of blue, fuzzy pajamas that Curaçao found quite cute; they had what looked like little yellow stars on them.
"Hello? Can I help you?" the mare asked; Curaçao already knew this was Shroud, but they'd never been properly introduced. None of her sisters knew Shroud either, come to think of it. An odd circumstance, all things considered.
"Oh, bonjour," Curaçao said, a small smile on her face. "Pardonne-moi, I thought you would be asleep by now."
Shroud raised an eyebrow. "So… you were gonna sneak into my office?"
"Oui, I was," Curaçao said, unfazed. "I needed some important information, and your office has access to the Tower's entire database, non?"
"It does. Usually the ponies around here just buzz me on the intercom if they need something, though, at any hour of the day or night. Nopony comes up personally."
"Ah, I think that is what I was told, but I did not want to disturb you in case you were sleeping." Curaçao shrugged. "But you are awake, non? Perhaps you can help me then."
"That's why I'm here." Shroud paused, then raised an eyebrow. "Hold on, I don't recognize your voice. Are you new in the Tower?"
Curaçao tilted her head. "Non? I have been here for a long time. Ah, pardonne-moi, I have never spoken with you before tonight though. Je m'appelle Curaçao. Et tu es?"
"Nice to meet you. I'm Shroud," the unicorn said, offering her pajama-clad hoof.
Curaçao took the hoof and smiled. "Enchanté. I must say, your pajamas are adorable."
Shroud blushed, but did not take her hoof from Curaçao's. "Um, thanks. Wait, you said your name is Curaçao? I recognize that name. Mister Silvertongue told me that I was supposed to get you anything you needed. You've got Master-Level security clearance, so, uh… you must be pretty important."
"Bien sûr. Mon père has trusted me with some very important work, and that requires as few restrictions as possible, non?"
"Right. So, what can I help you with?"
Curaçao smiled. "I need a complete file on one Captain Flathoof of the NPPD. Everything you can give me: school records, tax records, the works. J'ai besoin de tout."
Shroud tapped her screen a few times, her hooves moving so fast that Curaçao could barely keep track of them. A look at the mare's eyes—which Curaçao noted were a lovely blue—showed them zipping just as quickly across the screen. It took less than thirty seconds before Shroud dramatically clicked the screen again, and announced—
"Done. Every single public record—and some not public—of one NPPD Captain Flathoof." She reached under the desk and pulled out one of those fancy little data drives and handed it over. "Anything else?"
Curaçao nodded, and pushed the drive back towards Shroud. "Oui. I need another complete file for one 'Lockwood'. He is just a civilian, but I need all of the same information on him that you can provide me, s'il vous plaît."
Shroud nodded, reinserted the drive under her desk, then did the same process that she'd done with Flathoof. Curaçao was rather surprised that it took much longer for her to take care of his file; was there that much more information?
"Okay, got a little snag here: you said 'Lockwood', right?"
Curaçao raised an eyebrow. "Oui?"
"Which one? I've got two on here."
"Quoi? Deux? What do you mean?"
"Yeah, I've got one older, one younger. They even look a lot alike, except the eyes."
"Hmm. Intéressant. Get me the files for both of them. You never can be too thorough, oui?"
Shroud nodded. "Sure thing." After nearly three minutes, Shroud removed the drive and passed it back over to Curaçao. "Anything else, Miss Curaçao?"
"Mademoiselle Curaçao, if you wish to be formal," Curaçao said with a smile. "But there is no need to be formal with me, mon amie. We are working together in a way, non? Just Curaçao will do. And no, that will be all. You have been très utile. Merci beaucoup."
"I'm glad I could be of help. That's my job. Just remember, you don't need to come here in person next time; just buzz me on the intercom. I'm on call twenty-four-seven."
Curaçao frowned. "Oh non non non, I could not do that! Périsse la pensée! It would be so rude to wake you when you are sleeping, and so impersonal even when you are awake."
Shroud dismissed that thought with her hoof. "Psh, it's okay. That's what everypony does, anyway. Most folks in the Tower don't usually even bother with that, actually, just Mister Silvertongue. Apart from him I don't even talk to anypony outside of a few random reports, and never really hold a conversation."
Curaçao's frown deepened. "C'est terrible! You must be so lonely." She shook her head. "Non, I will not do this. If I need something, I will come to you en personne."
"Uh… I mean, sure, okay? You don't have to do that—"
"Tut tut. I do, mon amie, I do." Curaçao placed the drive under her beret. "But for now, I will bid you adieu, so that you may get some sleep, oui? It is very late, after all." She headed for the door, giving a little wave as she did so. "Au revoir, et bonne nuit!"
"Uh… bye?" Shroud said, waving back with a yawn. "See you around, I guess."
Curaçao smiled once she was out of the room, mostly to herself, and headed down the hall towards the elevator. It might be late, but she still had plenty of time to do some research. After all, a mare with her responsibilities never rested.
C'est la vie.
*****
It was nearly midnight, and Silvertongue had yet to retire for the evening to his bed, though he had readied himself for the journey: he took his nightly shower to ensure he was clean of sweat, dressed in his evening wear—a black silk robe with a red collar—and everything else that a pony of his caliber should reasonably be expected to do before tucking in for the evening.
He settled into his huge bed that was big enough to comfortably fit ten ponies, pulled up the silk sheets, and settled himself in and prepared for sleep.
Just before he managed to drift off, however, he felt a familiar presence probing his mind. "My Warden, how is our grand design progressing?" came Nihila's voice, smooth as the silk on his bed.
Silvertongue fought hard not to let his mild aggravation bleed through into his thoughts; he hadn't been expecting her to contact him until morning. "From my assessment thus far, I'd say that it is too early to make any manner of judgement on the matter," came his terse reply.
"A ridiculous concession," she hissed, making his blood run cold. "You have spoken with some of our tools already, have you not? Surely they presented you with some measure of success thus far?"
"Due to the circumstances of our plan, my lady, I have only spoken personally with Golden Dawn and Havoc, and I asked that they keep their reports brief such that I do not steer them improperly along their path. They have been left to their own devices, as we agreed, for they will benefit more from these 'bonds' forging naturally."
Nihila's essence wafted about inside him, a simmering heat; she was not satisfied with that answer. "This plan of yours is progressing far too slowly."
"It has only been a single day since we put the plan into effect."
"Excuses!" she snapped; he felt like he'd been punched in the gut, and was almost mildly concerned with her impatience.
"It is far too early to expect them to have made any progress beyond an initial introduction and perhaps, in some cases, the beginnings of a new bond of friendship. Forging relationships like this takes time, my lady, and we have the benefit of nearly a month's worth."
"Why do my pawns not simply offer them what they want?" she asked with a low growl. "You led me to believe those foolish worms would gladly accept help when offered."
"I did, my lady, but it will take time for these otherworldly mares to trust their new friends enough to consider it. If we offer it too soon, they will become suspicious. Otherwise, I would simply offer them the solution myself. And we both know they would not accept our terms."
Nihila paused for a long moment. "I am this close to finally wiping Harmonia's luster from this world, my Warden. I can taste victory in the air for the first time in hundreds of years. I will not be denied my due."
Silvertongue sighed, again forcing down the feelings of frustration. "Our plan will work. I assure you of that. But we must give it time. Your pawns will waste away the precious weeks these mares have before they bring them to me, to us, and then they will have no recourse but to accept your terms. Everything is in motion. I have never given you reason to doubt me."
"No… no, I suppose you have not. But I am still hesitant on the pace at which these… 'bonds' are forged. There must be some method that you can implement that will hasten the process."
"I will devise a plan to help strengthen their bonds, then, my lady, if that will alleviate your concerns," Silvertongue said with a nod. "Your every command is mine to obey."
"Good. Do not disappoint me, my Warden."
"I won't."
With that, he felt her essence leave his mind.
In the brief moment of clarity, he knew that he needed to ensure that this grand scheme went off properly, and that meant that Nihila had a point: he couldn't afford to wait for the opportune moment to strike. He'd wanted to gauge the results of his daughters for a few days before he proceeded with anything else, but Nihila wanted results and wasn't listening to reason; she was forcing his hoof.
So be it.
Silvertongue rose from his bed and pushed an intercom button on his nightstand. "Shroud."
It took a few seconds—it was late, so he knew she'd be sleeping—but eventually her somewhat-groggy voice came from the other end: "Sir?"
"I need you to look into Project Four-One-C-N, first thing in the morning."
There was a pause on the other end. "Yes, sir, Project Four-One-C-N, first thing in the morning. I'll contact you with results as soon as I have them."
"Very good, Shroud. And don't worry if it takes time; it is a top-secret project and has several protocols that might make your search… rather protracted."
"Very well. Anything else, sir?"
"No, Shroud, that will be all."
"Have a good night, sir."
With that, he clicked off the intercom and settled back into bed, staring at the ceiling.
His mind was racing. Moving this early could cause any number of snags or fumbles in the plan. There were too many variables, too many possibilities. Just one mistake and the whole thing would be for naught, a beautiful wasted effort with no positive outcome and potentially several negative ones.
He wouldn't be able to sleep properly until he was assured that everything was according to plan.