//------------------------------// // Day 0 // Story: I-solation // by Lapis-Lazuli and Stitch //------------------------------// I-solation Day 0 My name is Diamond Tiara, just so you know like you should. So now that we’ve got that out of the way, I’ll just say for the record that I hate it when I have to go with Daddy anywhere for his business. It’s such a drag, not being able to do anything for days and days. And he’s so stupid about it too, thinking that I can just entertain myself in a boring hotel room. Silver’s never allowed to come with us on these trips, I don’t have any of the servants to have do stupid stuff, and Daddy takes all my allowance bits so I can’t go wandering into the city. He says it’s ‘for my own good’, but what does he know? We’ve been to Baltimare hundreds of times! I know all the best places, so it’s not like I’d go anywhere else. Ugh! I just roll over on the bedsheets, looking at the whole room upside down. It doesn’t help at all, and now I’ve got a headache to add to my stupid boredom. Even worse, I’ll have to actually get up to get any aspirin. I humph again and roll back over. Even if Daddy’s been dumb as usual about this trip, I at least managed to impress myself. It’s pretty hard to do, since I’m obviously the best filly around. Whichever idiot had the room before us left some miniature dolls of the princesses behind (I have ones three times the size, for the record), and because the hotel servants are even more stupid than the ponies who left the dolls behind, I took them. It was so annoying, having to make up the stories by myself, but it was better than being bored out of my ever loving mind. So yeah, I actually managed to not be as bored as usual thanks to somepony else’s dumb. Just another good day’s work, I’d say. Or maybe Daddy would say that. I dunno. He’s been taking me on these trips more and more often, so I’m forced to be around him all the time now. Blegh. I think he’s rubbing off on my good fur. Not that Daddy’s not a good daddy. He knows what I want and when he doesn’t, he listens to me when I tell him and does a good job following through. But, I just don’t care one bit about what he does. It’s so boring, having to be nice and polite to rival ponies. I know what I’d do to them. Same thing I do to those dorks, the Cutie Mark Crusaders. I shiver. Guh, just thinking that name makes me shake in gross. But anyway, I think Daddy’s trying to get me interested in business (as if, it’s the dumbest job in the world) so I’ll take over for him one day. Gotta say, not gonna happen. I’m way better than that, just like Momma always told me before she left. Oh, that was stupid. Now I’ve got water in my eyes like a stupid wimp. I really did love Momma. She was a lot better than Daddy. And she was Canterlot royalty. I always have to remind the servants of that, since they seem to forget that makes me royalty too. But that’s what I want to do. I want to be me, be royalty. My cutie mark says so, so everypony else can just move out of the way. And if there’s one thing I know for sure, the royalty don’t have to worry about business. So why Daddy insists on trying to get me interested is just beyond me. It’s stupid, so I guess that’s why. I’m jolted out of trying to not be bored when there’s a rap on the door. “Diamond! It’s me. I’m coming in.” Daddy’s voice is muffled from the other side of the door. I don’t even move. He’ll come in and immediately start babbling on about what happened in the the conference room with Stupidface and Dumbnut and Dorkwad and a bunch of other ponies I can’t think of good names for. Sure enough, he walks through the rooms looking for me and when he finds me in my bedroom, he sighs and starts wagging his mouth. I make sure to keep my eyes open and looking interested and nodding when I think he’s asking a question. Works every time. But instead of listening, I have to do something. Daddy really puts me in a dumb spot when he does this. If I listen, I’ll be bored into stupid, but if don’t, I wind up being bored into stupid unless there’s something else worth my good time to think about. Daddy’s new navy blue suit works for a little bit. Way too many stallions and colts try to wear clothes and end up looking like complete morons. Clothes are for mares and fillies of good taste, class, and money. Like me of course. Daddy pulls off wearing clothes okay I guess. It’s better than a lot of the things I’ve seen in Ponyville. How Princess Twilight can be a mare and look beautiful in a dress one day, then look completely stupid in Winter Wrap Up gear the next just blows my mind. Shouldn’t she have standards or something? I dunno. Then that dumb question Daddy pulls on me sometimes happens. “Diamond, are you listening to me?” “Yeah,” I answer and with any luck, sounding cheerful instead of completely beat will keep him from following up. It doesn’t. “What did I just say?” he asks, and I hate how amused he looks. He knows I wasn’t listening and’s trying to embarrass me now. I glare at him for a couple seconds for good measure before huffing and turning my head away. “I dunno. And I don’t really care either. What’s the point of coming to Baltimare if I have to sit up here all day instead of shopping?” “You should care, Missy,” he tells me, and he’s more peeved than usual, I can tell. But I don’t care. It’s about time he get a grip on how I think about this stupid business stuff. “I’m trying to teach you how to run a distribution company so you can have a good future, and if you don’t listen…” He stops and sighs dramatically, and since I’ve got my head turned and eyes closed, I can’t tell if he’s being showy or really worn out. “We’ll talk about this later on the train ride home,” he says. Great, now I’ve got to deal with stupid stuff on my way back to a town full of stupid stuff. “I don’t need your stupid business,” I blurt out as he’s walking away, and I honestly don’t know why I say it. “I’m gonna be like Momma. Royalty. A big name mare in Canterlot that all the peasants have to give a proper bow to.” He doesn’t reply at first, and I already know it was a good idea to speak up. Funny how sometimes you’re only sure in hindsight. “Hrm,” he grunts in that ugly way that males do, “get your slippers on. We’ll go to dinner, get you some souvenirs, then come back and pack. And I don’t want to hear a word about your mother or our future discussion. I’ve had enough arguing for one day…” “Fine by me,” I grin, thanking myself for coming up with the perfect way to shut him up. And souvenirs! Finally! I can already see a new perfume box on my bathroom vanity back home, and a new dress being levitated into my closet by one of the laundry maids. I’m thinking a light peach color, maybe with some pale blue lace trim. It’ll look good with my mane if my mane dresser can ever screw her head on straight and get what it is I tell her to do. “Where did you get reservations?” “I didn’t,” he tells me, and I can’t help but roll my eyes. Nopony can see, but it’s for good measure. “There’s this nice little family owned pizzeria I’ve always wanted to try out, so I figured tonight before going home’d be a good chance.” “Ugh,” is all I have to say. I finish pulling on the strap to my final sparkling, gold bead studded slipper and march past Daddy with a huff. Pizza. Great. The only food they know how to give out on school trips and practically every other place common ponies get together. And I’ll probably have to give my slippers to the maids three or four times to get them properly cleaned. This ‘pizzeria’ is going to be so gross, I don’t even like thinking about stepping on their floors with my slippers. Daddy follows me out onto the soft carpet hallways of the hotel, he says hello to some of those other stuck up businesscolts, and I try to enjoy walking on clean floors for as long as possible. I mean, honestly, Ponyville may be full of dorks and hicks, but at least it’s clean. I’ve seen parts of Baltimare that would make a sewer look good. And the ponies down those streets look even worse. I really have no idea why the decent ponies in the city don’t have them arrested for just being so ugly and gross. When we finally make it to the bottom of the hotel (only ponies on my level get to stay in the big suites on the upper floors), Daddy gets us a normal cab. Oh, now he’s really pushing it. Why on earth would I want to put the back of my perfect mane on a seat that’s never cleaned except when some moron throws up on it? Luxury cabs like what I’m supposed to sit in get a full wipe down on the inside and outside after every customer. And they smell nice too. This thing stinks like Applebloom. The only breathable air in the cab is in my own, perfumed fur. I put my foreleg up to my nose and lean forward so I don’t have to touch the seat so much. I put on a scowl so nopony is fooled that I’m enjoying this in the slightest. “Where to Mr….?” the cab-pull asks Daddy, and I do my eyes a favor and don’t look up to see him. “Yer girl there gonna be a’ight?” “It’s Mr. Rich,” Daddy replies with too much good cheer. It’s gross how happy he is being surrounded by all this icky peasant stuff. “And nah, don’t worry about her. She’s just hungry. Double your fair if you can give us a hay of a ride to Deep Dish’s.” “Feelin’ adventurous huh?” the cabb-pull says, and I can already feel the lurch in my stomach before he even takes off like a moron. The wheels to the cab rattle so badly they drown out everything else. I can barely even hear myself think. And the sharp turns and screaming don’t help. I groan. This is a lot to go through for some new perfume and a new dress, but I don’t tell Daddy how dumb it is. I think if I open my mouth, I’ll end up being that dork that throws up all over the seat, and that definitely isn’t going to happen to me. The only fringe benefit to the crazy stupid speed of the cab-pull moron is that the air doesn’t smell so bad when you’re moving so fast. And Daddy is laughing and whooping the whole time like a stupid foal that I’d rather not know. It’s a cab, not an amusement park. When we stop at last, and I dare to look up, we’re in the middle of some dingy peasant street where ponies are being loud and obnoxious and trying to say hello to everypony they see. Even if they don’t know them. If they expect to get any of my valuable attention, they can forget it. I’m eating so we can just leave as soon as possible to the better part of Baltimare where I’m appreciated. I hop out of the cab with equal parts reluctance and eagerness. I want to be as far away from that stupid cab-pull’s cart as I can, but now I have to deal with these street ponies who wouldn’t know a jewel from a gem even if they were told in stupid-pony terms. “Thanks stallion,” Daddy tells the cab-pull. “You gave me what I asked for.” I wince when I hear the clinking of Daddy’s bits. It’s probably worth more than the cart and his dumb, dinky house combined. Some other common ponies replace us, and the cab’s gone again. Thank goodness it’s not Ponyville, or I’d be covered in dust right about now. But when I look across the street to this pizza thing, I get back a little hope. Just a little. We step inside (there’s no door… idiots), and it’s all really traditional. The decor all’s old and stuff, but I’ve got a good eye, and I can tell most of the stuff is valuable as antique. Daddy has a lot of the same kind of junk in his office back home. So at least they know what matters. Maybe the food won’t be awful. Just as good, they’re aren’t a boatload of ponies in the place. I won’t have to deal with overly friendly ponies constantly trying to say hello and shake my hoof, and I won’t have to put my head up and close my eyes to show just who they’re dealing with. It really is a pain having to do that. Shouldn’t everypony just get it by now that I’m better than the lot of them without me having to show and prove it all the time. Whatever, the Cutie Mark Crusaders won’t ever get it, so what am I talking about. Anyway, there also isn’t a line to the counter, so me and Daddy don’t have to wait. I never was able to understand why it was first come first serve in so many places. Wouldn’t it be better to have some kind of bouncer to see how much money you have and the ponies with the most get to go first? Better in my book. But it doesn’t even matter this time, since Daddy gets us some pizza (awkwardly, since he’s got no idea how to order pizza at a place like this) right away, and we go take a seat by the window to wait on it. That’s when I get this really bad feeling, just as I’m taking off my forehoof slippers so they don’t get dirty. Daddy’s looking at me in a really special way. He doesn’t do it often, but the few times he has, I’ve never come out the other side any better. Well, except once when he made me invite somepony to my eighth birthday party. That’s how I met Silver, but that was an exception. “Diamond,” he says, and I already know by the tone that I’m right. Great. I’m never going to escape being bored until we go shopping it looks like. “I’m going to keep my word on waiting to talk later on the train ride home tomorrow morning, but there is something we need to talk about right now.” I huff just so he knows my stance on having to deal with whatever it is. “Look, there’s an old saying that goes something like, ‘Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.’ You’ve heard that one at school I’m sure.” “Yeah,” I answer. I’m a bit curious now, I’ll admit. “Well, we say that when we mean that you should always be watching your rivals to see the moment you can get an advantage, but that’s not what it’s trying to say in my experience. See, if you keep ponies you don’t like close so you can keep an eye on them, you learn to sympathize with them, and they end up not being your rivals anymore.” “So, sounds like a stupid idea anyway,” I say. “Why would I be interested in anypony who’s not a friend anyway?” “Because then you learn what it means to be part of something bigger than yourself,” Daddy says to me, and I roll my eyes. “Hey!” he starts, and I jump. He never yells at me, even a little. Ever. “You’ll be thirteen this year, and I thought you’d be more grown up by now. I’ve let a lot slide, Diamond, thinking you’d grow out of it. But, once we get back home, I want you out of the house trying to find a small job on the weekends. That’s when I started, so that’s what you’ll be doing too.” “Wait, what?” I almost scream. “You want me to go work?” I ask a little more quietly, but I can’t keep the shock out of my voice. How stupid of an idea is this? It’s more idiotic than the wacko stuff the Cutie Mark Crusaders come up with. “Yes, I do,” Daddy says, more calmly than I want. He nods and thanks the waiter who brings us our pizza but I don’t even notice. I’m vaguely aware of standing up across the table, eyeballing Daddy with an angry stare. “You can’t be serious,” I say. “Working’s got nothing to do with being a royal mare. That stuff’s for common ponies. And my cutie mark definitely has nothing to do with work. Ugh! It’s dumb just thinking of doing that stuff.” “Your crown, Diamond, can mean anything actually,” Daddy replies, taking a large bite of the gooey cheese pizza like one of the gross colts in school. “It means you are a leader, and leaders can be found all over Equestria in every profession. But, you don’t become a leader just because it’s your talent. You earn it. I can even have Princess Celestia vouch for me on that one.” “No you can’t,” I sneer, still leaning over the pizza. “Really? You don’t think so? Okay. I’ll ask for a letter from her to you once we get back home,” Daddy says in complete seriousness. But he can’t be serious. There’s no way. If he was, I’d have been able to meet the princess hundreds of times already. “Now sit down and eat your pizza, Diamond. I know of some places back home that are hiring at the moment, so you should go to those first.” “No,” I say defiantly. I won’t be roped into doing common pony labor. I spend too much time getting my mane dresser and other servants to get me to look fantastic to get it all ruined with only a couple minutes of stupid sweat. Why in Equestria should I agree to do something so mundane? “I refuse.” And I take a bite of the pizza. It seems like good punctuation. “Then you can go find someplace else to live,” Daddy says, and I almost choke on the pie. “And I’ll let Silver’s parents know they’re not to let you stay with them. You don’t want to do your part just like everypony else in Equestria, you can’t live at home.” “You can’t do that,” I insist, feeling a bit nervous now. Daddy’s never stood his ground like this before. These are usually just lectures I can shrug off and move on with my life. “The Royal Guard won’t let you. It’s illegal.” There. Daddy obeys the law to a tee, so now I’ve got what I need to actually enjoy my evening shopping without something like that over my head. “Everypony in Ponyville is at least an acquaintance of mine that I’ve helped out in the past,” Daddy says with a annoying smirk. I’m the only one allowed to do that. “If you think you’ll be able to convince them to go back on me calling a favor, then go on ahead, Diamond. But you’re getting a job, whether you like it or not. End of discussion.” “Some discussion,” I scoff at him. “You’re just trying to tell me what to do.” “I’m trying, Diamond,” Daddy answers. “I am. Now, if you want to argue with me about it anymore, I’ll take you back to the hotel right now and get you that perfume you’ve been whining about without you there.” “But… but,” I stammer like an idiot. Why is he being so annoying all of a sudden? “You can’t!” I say, stronger than before, and only after do I notice how quiet the rest of the dumb pizza place is. “Fine, you’re making this harder than it needs to be, Diamond,” Daddy tells me, putting on my forehoof slippers for me and taking one of my hooves and practically dragging me out. I’m in something of a daze, and my hooves are only walking because that’s what they’re supposed to do. We get in another cab, and I can’t even think about how gross it is or how stupid the cab-pull looks. Daddy’s forcing me to work. Of all things, he’s going to make me work? Why? Where did this come from, and why am I on the receiving end? Why couldn’t an idiot servant or employee get whatever it is that’s got him in this mood? Nopony has any right to make a royal mare do anything that even looks like work. If there’s effort involved in doing anything, I’ll decide whether I want to on a case by case basis. And if not, push the Cutie Mark Crusaders to the front of the line so they have to. All I can do is just stare straight ahead in shock. Daddy takes me upstairs to our hotel suite, tells me goodnight, and just leaves. At some point, I come to my senses, and it’s just worse than being a little loopy. In just a couple minutes, Daddy took it upon himself to destroy my whole life. All of it. My reputation is going to go down the toilet when everypony sees me behind some shop counter. I don’t want to think about it, but it’s all that’s in my head. I end up just crawling in bed and crying a little… no, I cry a lot. I don’t even remember stopping or going to sleep. One second, it’s late Saturday evening, and I’m sniffling and crying like a foal, and the next; Daddy’s voice wakes me up, and he throws the curtains open so I can get blinded by morning sunlight. “Morning, Diamond,” Daddy says at some point. I don’t remember. My head’s too busy torturing me with all the things that are going to blow up in my face when I get back to Ponyville. It doesn’t help that I ache all over and don’t feel like I’ve slept at all. Daddy’s already packed my bags, but I check them for all my stuff anyway. It’s all there with the new perfume on top. Whatever. No amount of good scents or dresses could cheer me up now. They’re not gonna matter in a few days. Daddy says something about my mane, and I get my brush out of my bag and meander into the little filly’s room. I hate working on my own mane. It always looks so plain when only one pair of hooves works on it. I hear Daddy muttering to himself and a quill scratching in the next room, but like before, I can’t concentrate on that stuff. I take off my tiara, do a few runs through with my mane, and decide I’ll get it fixed up the right way when I have all my servants to do it the way I like it. I put the tiara back on and wander back into the main room. “Ready, sweetie?” Daddy asks me, and I just nod, angrily determined to ignore him as much as possible. I don’t even want to see his face right now. Some pony comes and loads our bags onto a cart as we leave, and I remain focused on staring at the floor. And the longer I’m awake and alert instead of shell shocked and depressed (why did I let myself get so stupid anyway?), the angrier I get. It’s gonna take being at home in my own room to do it right, but I’ll think of a way to get back at Daddy for this. Momma wouldn’t be happy either, I don’t think, so there is some good from that thought. We get our stuff loaded into a cab that better suits my status, and we move off to the train station at a pace that’s much smarter than that idiot cab-pull that Daddy antagonized. The station is just full of grossness just piled on top of more gross. There’s soot and smoke and stupid loud noises, and nopony has enough sense to just shut up long enough for anypony else to hear anything. I stick my hoof out and trip some of the more annoying ones, and it makes me smirk and feel a little better. Still, I won’t ever understand why Daddy doesn’t just buy his own personal train so we don’t have to go through this mess all the time. I end up between the pony hauling our bags and Daddy, trying to keep from getting lost in the crowd and giving anypony who comes close to doing so a good whack on the shins. Honestly, you’d think ponies had never seen a pair of higher class ponies who have better places to be than them. And when Daddy finally finds the station master, the train is, of course, not ready for boarding. Which means I have to sit against a pillar looking like some normal pony and getting my coat dirty and full of grit. I’ll admit, I let my mind wander for a bit. The stupid din of the station eventually just becomes an annoying background, so I can’t help but start thinking about what’ll happen with those dorks the Cutie Mark Crusaders. They’re such a bunch of softies, so they won’t be too hard to handle, but I just don’t want to have to handle them at all. I’ve had them right where I want them for as long as I can remember, and now I’m gonna have to rethink how to keep them from imagining they’re somehow better than me and Silver. I mean come on, it’d be one thing if they weren’t blank flanks! Ugh, why do they always end up being such…. I jump again when a louder than normal whistle goes off, and I turn to see a train pulling into the station… in the same spot where mine had been. I jump to my hooves. The bags are gone, Daddy’s gone, the train is definitely gone… And I’m still here. On the platform. I feel the panic inside, and I can’t stop it as it takes hold and sends me running up and down the station searching for some sign that I just lost my bearings, and Daddy is still standing and waiting for our train. But I haven’t eaten breakfast, and before long, I run out of steam and the panic streams in harder and faster to replace it. I run as fast as I can away from the station, and I don’t care where I’m going: I can’t think straight. I don’t how long I run, hyperventilating I’m sure, until I just stop. And now I’m alone in a city I don’t know, with no money, and with Daddy already on his way to Ponyville with no way to find me. My rump hits the cobblestone street, and I can’t even cry. I don’t know what to do.