//------------------------------// // Chapter 2 // Story: Down With the Pastryarchy // by kudzuhaiku //------------------------------// Ears pricked and standing at full attention like two eager soldiers, Twilight listened to the exchange taking place between Seville and Spike. The conversation—for the moment at least—was about heroes, with Spike referencing notable mentions from his comic books and Seville spoke of hard boiled rough and tumble types from his noir novels. She knew from experience that this conversation could go on for hours and in the past, it had. Applejack emerged, fresh from the shower, and from her slow blinking as well as hesitant, tender movements, Twilight knew her friend was nursing something of a headache. Pinkie Pie—wearing a ferocious look of concentration—was reading a cookbook while humming to herself. As it turned out, Pinkie was a voracious reader, but only when the subject matter was about cooking. Otherwise, the pink pony’s short attention span would work against her and she would get bored. A bored Pinkie Pie was a problematic Pinkie Pie and a problematic Pinkie Pie was a Pinkie Pest. Thankfully, Pinkie Pest could be dealt with without being mean to her and sending her away. She just had to be entertained somehow. “Seville”—Applejack found an opportune moment to break into the conversation—“I can’t help but notice that the heroes in those crime drama novels are all jaded and cynical. They always think the worst about well, just about everything. All this talk about the city eternal and how nothing ever changes.” “Yeah?” Seville gave Applejack the attention she deserved and focused his inquisitive stare upon her. “I’m not sure I understand your fascination,” Applejack continued as she sat down on the short sofa beside Pinkie. “You work so hard to change things, so to me, that means you don’t abide by all that fatalism—” “Fatalism, Applejack?” “I read, Twilight… when I get the chance. Sometimes I lock myself in the outhouse and don’t come out for a while. Anyhow, I just find Seville’s love of noir novels fascinating, that’s all. You wouldn’t expect a pony like him liking something so bitter and pessimistic.” “I like to imagine all of the ways that I would try to change things,” Seville said, explaining himself. “How I’d bust things wide-open with a story. How I’d get the scoop and do a tell-all on the front page. Even in the most hopeless, bleakest situations, you never give up, no matter how tough the going gets. Telling the truth sets things right.” When he spoke, sharing his motivations, Twilight felt her heart-rate quicken. Rubbing her head, Applejack nodded, but said nothing in return. Pinkie Pie turned a page and Spike appeared to be contemplating what had been said. Seville, an Orange, studied the Apple sitting a short distance away from him. Contented, Twilight enjoyed her friends being amicable and agreeable with one another. Moments like these were the best moments to be had, the most treasured, when all of her friends were getting along with one another, with no squabbling to be had. With a content sigh, Twilight went to pack a few things. Alone in her room, Twilight squinted at Celestia’s message, trying to read words that just weren’t there. Instructions were minimal. There was nothing telling her to do anything specific, just that issues of tribalism and unity now fell under her royal jurisdiction, as these were essentially friendship issues. After a few moments of frantically reading the same words over and over, it began to sink in that she now had immense responsibility of the worst sort: vague, undefined responsibility. If construed in the right away, almost anything could be seen as an issue of tribe or an issue of unity. Which was, perhaps, the point. Twilight came to the conclusion that she had carte blanche rule over Equestria at large. Celestia acknowledged the massive shift in power since becoming the avatar of Ink. As wonderful as this was, Twilight had no idea what Celestia wanted from this, what outcome. With growing excitement, Twilight realised this was a test, and tests were wonderful. A test was cause for celebration. Perhaps some compromise could be reached, something that would make everypony happy. Sitting on her bedside table was a bottle of perfume and when she glanced around, thoughtful, it caught her eye. This was a gift from Rarity, and it was made with ambergris. The fashionista had raved about it right up to the point where Twilight had reminded her that ambergris was whale vomit, and then the fabulous mare had lapsed into silence. Normally, Twilight never bothered with perfume, but things had changed. She had changed. Now she had disconcerting thoughts about being pretty and minding her appearance. Those had always been rather minor concerns but now with Pinkie Pie and Seville… being pretty was now a lingering concern in her mind. Embarrassed, she levitated the bottle over, spritzed a bit of perfume beneath each wing, thinking of smelly, stinky, funky wingpits, and when she was done, she tossed the perfume into her suitcase. Then, when the worry did not subside, she extended each wing and gave a good, hearty test sniff. What lurked beneath almost knocked her right off her hooves. This… this was never a problem when she was a unicorn. Before catching the train, she needed a shower. A train that left right on time was the very best sort of train. After a cursory inspection of the sleeper cabin, Twilight found it to her liking. It was new, modern, with folding beds, a tiny, space-efficient sink, a fold down table with benches, and a glass skylight that revealed the stars above. It was larger than she thought it would be and the four of them had more than enough room to get comfortable. She thought of Spike, as she tended to do when she left him. He wanted to stay at home and Twilight suspected that he had plans that she was unaware of. Perhaps an AO&O game was scheduled, or a game of Wagon Wars. Of course, there was the likely possibility that Spike sensed disaster and was going to sit this out… in a different city. Just thinking of this caused Twilight to smirk and she allowed herself to miss Spike just a little bit, even though she had just left. Pinkie Pie seemed subdued, thoughtful, and not because she was tired. No, she was quite jittery and seemed wide awake, almost as if she had chugged an entire pot of Sugarcube Corner’s Special Black—something that Mrs. Cake had expressly forbidden Pinkie from doing. As if that wasn’t enough, the city council had passed a special town ordinance prohibiting hyper-caffeinated Pinkie Pies. Meanwhile, Applejack had folded down her bunk and was sprawled out, staring up at the skylight while chewing on her lip. Her hat hung on a hook beside her and her mane, now loose, had spilled out all over her pillow. It left her looking younger somehow, though Twilight could not find the words to explain why. The years were catching up to Applejack—to all of them really—but with Twilight most of all. Having existed outside of time for so long, it actually felt good to observe time again. When she had first met Seville, he was practically a colt. Now, it could be said that he was in his prime. He had certainly matured, and for that matter, so had Pinkie Pie. When she had first come to Ponyville, each year felt like an eternity; something had changed though, and the seasons began to pass with alarming speed. Whole years had passed in the blink of an eye. With wings, time became strange to her… or perhaps the wings had nothing to do with it. It could just be coincidence. The wings could have come at a point in her life when time had lost some of its impact, its relevance. “Sometimes, as an earth pony, I just feel stuck.” Pinkie Pie’s sudden statement snapped Twilight from her reverie and she heard a grunt from Applejack. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Seville nod a few times, then go still. At that moment, Twilight became keenly aware that she was not an earth pony, and if the truth was to be told, was not really in touch with her earth pony aspect as an alicorn. “It’s like, me being an earth pony is my identity,” Pinkie Pie went on to say and her eyes darkened when her face became troubled. “I don’t think I said that very well. Words are hard sometimes. Rainbow Dash is Rainbow Dash and she’s the fastest pony alive. That’s what they call her. The fastest pony alive. It’s like, it doesn’t matter what she is, because hey, she’s exciting! But when I’m mentioned, it’s always, oh, hey, Pinkie Pie… earth pony and Element of Laughter. It’s like I can’t escape being an earth pony and this isn’t a good thing. It feels demeaning and degrading sometimes.” “Or Rarity, being the fabulous fashionista. It’s hardly ever mentioned that she’s a unicorn. Just a fabulous fashionista.” Applejack rolled over onto her side, lifted her head, and looked over at her pink friend. “Yet anytime that Photo Finish is mentioned, its the earth pony photographer. I actually brought this up to Rarity once when we was having us some drinks. She accused me of chasing after trouble that wasn’t there, but then I asked her to recall what ponies say about that Hoity Toity feller. The look on Rarity’s face when she came around to my way of thinking was quite a sight.” Twilight sat there, aghast, and feeling dreadfully out of place. “It’s insultin’, is what it is,” Applejack continued. “It’s as if everypony is saying to us, ‘not bad… for an earth pony.’ Every day it is a constant reminder and a slap in the face. “I’m not alone…” Pinkie’s ears sagged and her lower lip began to quiver. “I kept wondering if I was just having a me moment. I gotta admit, this bake-off coming to an end has me thinking and I’m not a thinky-pony. I’m more of a pinky-pony. I’ve reached a point in my life where I’m kinda party pooped and now I’m thinking about what to do with my life. Thinking is hard. I’ve been feeling really insecure lately since Mrs. Cake hired on Sugar Belle as an apprentice. She’s a unicorn and she can get so much done without even trying. Me? I’m stuck doing things the hard way. The slow way. I think it’s time I moved on.” “You’re quitting?” Seville asked. “I gave Mrs. Cake my resignation this morning, before I left for Canterlot.” “Pinks, you quit your job?” Seville’s eyes narrowed; he leaned forward, his breathing shallow, and he peered into the pink pony’s eyes. “You love your job.” “Sugar Belle does it better.” Pinkie cast her gaze to the floor and gave her head a sad shake. “She can be washing dishes while finishing up a batch of cakes and mixing up batter for the next batch. She can run the entire assembly process by herself… all at once.” “Pinks, I’m sorry… I wish I knew what to say.” “Seville, it was time for a change.” Pinkie smiled, a brave smile that Twilight couldn’t bear to see. It was, perhaps, the most forced smile she had ever made and it was utterly devoid of joy. This smile was the antithesis of everything a Pinkie smile was meant to be. “After this bake-off, I’m gonna take some me-time. Gonna hang out with family. Spend some time with my sisters. Visit my parents. I’m gonna be a better aunt to Pebble ‘cause she’s at that age where all the earth pony pressures are really starting to settle in and she’s having a rough time.” Twilight already knew about ‘earth pony pressures’ but she didn’t really experience them herself. The very thought of doing so scared her, that her body’s needs and demands might betray her. Pebble was at an age—the age—where every day she had to struggle so she wouldn’t fronk poor Sumac right in half. It was a struggle that Twilight had been oblivious of for so long, so much so that when she first heard of it, she thought that maybe, just maybe, Pebble might be joking. But Pebble was at the age where she was learning to control her earth pony nature and magic. Twilight couldn’t even imagine what it must be like, but the idea that she was part earth pony herself unnerved her. “You know, I wouldn’t even be who I am or what I am without Gosling.” Seville’s eyes, narrowed and dark, held troubled storms behind them. “Nopony wanted anything to do with an earth pony reporter. I couldn’t catch a break to save my life. Didn’t matter that I was good. I couldn’t fly so I couldn’t get those aerial shots and it is difficult to interview somepony when your mouth is full of pencil. Gosling forced the door open. The worst part? Even now, after all these years, I still get treated like a porter… as the baggage handler. The heavy lifter. I am reliant upon my assistants… I have a few pegasus assistants for aerial shots and a few unicorns. And they get treated as reporters, while I’m just the baggage handler. I can’t catch a break.” “Yeah, Seville, I could imagine.” Applejack collapsed back into her bunk with a weary sigh and kicked her legs into a more comfortable position. “And that’s all the worse because you’re famous. Your name is famous, anyhow. You’re that pony that writes those riveting front pages. Ponies know you for your writing, and not for how you look.” “When I think about that”—Pinkie Pie’s jaw muscles clenched and her tense withers squared tight— “it makes me have not-nice thoughts. It just makes me so mad. Ooooh, so mad.” “Pinks…” Seville’s tone was somehow gentle and fierce at the same time; hearing it caused electric tingles to go dancing up Twilight’s rigid spine. “We’re earth ponies. We’ll never be known as good fliers, or powerful wizards, and if history remembers us at all, it’ll remember us as earth ponies. History will probably be insulting though, and say something insulting like, ‘he rose above his humble origins as an earth pony to become something greater.’ Argh! I hate all of this! There are times when I feel that no matter what I do with my life, no matter what I accomplish, I’ll never be more than an earth pony. That is the best that I can hope for. Whatever hoofnote I might be in history, it’ll be glossed over for something more exciting, like some pegasus that did something spectacular or some unicorn that discovered a new type of spell. By virtue of my tribe, I am condemned to the dustbin of history.” Twilight wanted to say something—anything—but she sat there, tongue-tied and at a loss for words. Friends had secret struggles… this was even a subject she taught in her school. But this went beyond secret struggle territory. This was an issue that they shared an awareness of—the common, shared experience of earth ponies—and she was only just now learning that this was as big of a problem as it was. They felt comfortable enough to talk about it around her—but why? What had changed? Previous to this, she had only had brief glimpses into the complications of being an earth pony, and mostly because Pebble struggled. It was at that moment that Twilight realised that she was about to go to a convention packed with earth ponies—earth ponies that all shared a common struggle. A frustration that each of them was aware of but that society no-doubt ignored. At least, it felt as though society ignored it. She was certainly oblivious to it. Reaching deep within herself, Twilight questioned her earth pony nature, imploring it to say something, to respond. Alas, it said nothing and Twilight couldn’t help but feel ignored. “I’m going to the bar car for drinks,” Seville announced. “Me too,” Applejack said while she heaved herself up out of her bunk. “You’re buying, Seville. I ain’t brought nuttin’ but my hat and a smile.” Lacking any sort of enthusiasm, Pinkie Pie nodded. “Me three. Could you two throw me a pity party?” “Yeah.” Applejack shrugged. “Why not? Ya just quit yer livelihood. A pity party is owed.” “Twilight, you coming with us?” Seville, now standing, waited for Twilight to respond. In return, she gave him a blank, dumb stare. This continued for a time until Twilight realised that she had to say something. “I’m going to stay here and look after my princess duties. I have a lot to think about.” “Suit yerself, Twi. Come on, y’all. She won’t budge when she’s like this. Let’s go get liquored up and see what sort of trouble we can get into.” They left and Twilight watched them go. The three of them shared a common bond, a shared experience between one another, and she could not help but feel like an outsider. Already, her mind was starting to race, and when the door shut behind her friends, Twilight wondered what Sugar Belle, a unicorn, was doing to the harmony of Sweet Apple Acres. If Pinkie Pie was feeling put out by Sugar Belle’s capability in the kitchen, what might Applejack be feeling? It left her troubled and tilting her head back, she began to search the overhead stars for wisdom.