I-solation
Day 2
I don’t shake myself awake the next morning. I just sort of blearily open my eyes and blink them a couple times. I’m not really conscious of anything other than feeling like I need to sleep more. It’s a nice feeling after everything else from yesterday. I move to stretch a little bit before rolling over, and my nice warm hooves are hit by the sharp cold air around me. I yank them back into the curled position I’d been in before, but the damage is already done. I’m more awake now, and when I blink my eyes again, I’m not feeling as drowsy anymore. It sucks. It would’ve been nicer just to sleep the day away. But with being more awake comes actually beginning to think, something I know we royal mares do better than other ponies. As much as I’d like to just stay here and sleep, if I stay too long, the trains will start coming and going. That means traveling ponies, station masters, and a bunch of other annoying ponies. Never mind not being able to get some sleep in that noise, I’d probably be forced up and out by the Guard or the station masters. I hate it, but I’d want me gone if I were getting off the train.
I try stretching again and the colder air isn’t as bad as last time. I can at least endure the shiver that runs up through my spine at the cold touch, and my legs don’t automatically curl back up. But even with sleep, I’m still worn out, and I end up just lying there splayed out for a few more minutes before deciding to get up the right way. I throw the gross, oily coat off and shove it to the side, doing my best to not think about how my fur feels all over. My face is the only place it didn’t touch, but that’s not much help either since I’ve got eye gunk I have to scrape out with my hooves (it pinches a bit), and my mane keeps falling in my face in ugly, long strands.
I manage to clear the corners of my eyes out without them watering too badly, and I take off my tiara to at least straighten my mane. It’s still frizzy and messily curled and not every stray hair wants to rest behind my face, but I’m able to take care of most it. It’s more than I can say for that stupid attempt yesterday evening. In addition to helping me preserve what’s left of my rightful dignity, my tiara’s got enough weight to act like a headband. So there is that I guess.
I peek my head around one of the pillars to check for any station masters. It’s morning time, but no trains are here yet, so I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed on the platform. It’s a stupid rule. It’s not like I would sleep on dirt in some dinky, icky alleyway. There are a few ponies in the master uniform coming onto the platform, but I’m a smart, observant mare; they don’t have all their security gear on. Sure enough, my eyes follow them as they wander off into what I guess is where they keep all that junk. I step out from behind the pillar and give the rest of the platform a scanning look. I allow myself a smirk at my own cleverness and their dumb. Shouldn’t they have checked the platform over like good little station masters?
It works for me regardless. I need to get out of here before they come though, so I start walking out at a decent prance. Before long, the draftiness of the platform hits me full in the face, blowing grit and bits of left behind paper and wrappers into my eyes. I wince against the burning and shield my eyes with one of my forelegs until the wind dies out. It takes longer than it has any right to, but once I lower my leg, I can’t help but notice how chilled the rest of me is. Being outside in the city just isn’t right. It makes me have to do stupid, ugly stuff. I grumble under my breath but turn around anyway and flick some of the stray strands of mane out of my eyes.
The nasty, oily coat is still where I left it, and I give it a good, long glare before throwing it over my back. “Bleh-heh-heg,” I shiver and whine at the way it clings to my fur. But it does it’s job when I come back out from behind the pillars again, especially since it’s still warm from last night. I vow to get something less gross as soon as I can. It’s not much, but at least it’ll be something to do while I wait for Daddy. Because that’s all I can figure has happened. I may have dreamed about it at some point or something else really stupid, but the only reason he’s not already back for me is the trains.
The station in Ponyville should be a whole lot bigger than it’s current size (duh, we have a princess living there now with me and Daddy), but we only have enough room for one engine. Daddy doesn’t go on many trips because of that, and now it’s going to keep him from coming to get me as quickly as he should. I guess there’s always the normal roads, but I don’t think even Daddy would be stupid enough to do that. There’s idiot dragons and sheer cliffs and all kinds of other dumb dangers on the cart roads. More than likely, he’d die on his way to Baltimare, or on the way back. There’s no way I’d go home in a cart, so I wouldn’t have to worry about it. Following that train (ugh, I can’t believe I even did that to myself) of thought, I decide it would be a good idea to come back later today to check when the next train from Ponyville will be arriving.
I glance at the posting boards with the faint hope they might already be current, but it’s all still yesterday’s times like I thought. I turn my head back to ground level, and it’s lucky I do, since they’re too far away still for me to hear. The two station masters from earlier are coming out of their back room now, and I feel a little flutter in my chest at being caught. I do my best to dart behind the nearest pillar with the nasty, heavy coat on my back, and I make it just before I’m sure they turn to look where I had been walking. They’re being really loud and obnoxious; one of them is laughing like a big dork, probably at some corny joke. I wait until I hear them pass my pillar, lean around to be sure they actually are, and scurry as fast as I can to the next one.
I keep doing this until I’m at the exit to the platform, but I have to stop there too. Actual Guard ponies are standing at the entrance, waiting until the station masters officially open the platform. This is bad. At this rate, I’ll either be caught by the Guards or the station masters will see me waiting to get out. I start to feel myself really breathing heavily, mostly because the coat is such a stupid drag and… Wait! The coat! I dive into the darkest corner of the platform, hoping there’s enough shadow to keep me hidden, and squeal a little as I scrunch up and throw the coat over my whole body. Everything goes dark, and I can barely hear what’s going on outside. I figure that doesn’t matter all that much. The noise from yesterday would be unmistakable even through this gross thing.
The smell is awful though. I want to think it’s just the bad odor of the nasty coat, but I’m pretty sure in the back of my mind that I don’t smell too great either. That alone is criminal. I focus on trying to breathe with my mouth, but it doesn’t help, since this air has a taste that’s almost ten times worse than the way it smells. I spit and spat as quietly as I can and the jerking motion of my head forces me to notice my tiara. It’s making the coat into this completely stupid and totally conspicuous cone shape. My chest jumps for a second just as I reach up and yank it down and hold it close. The result is my mane flying all over the place just before the coat becomes much heavier on my neck. Wonderful. So much for trying to hold onto looking beautiful.
But my disguise seems to work, as before long I can hear all the bustling and shouting of the morons outside who won’t shut up. I lean down and put my chin as close to the pavement as I can and lift the edge of the coat up to check. I’m right. Ponies are streaming in and a few are already leaving. Good. That means I won’t have to wait for the train. I crawl out from underneath the coat and re-situate it (it’s way too big for me, and I hate baggy clothes) before shaking a bit to sort out at least some of the ruffled spots in my fur. It’s not as good a fix as I want, but I’d need my special brush from home to have my servants do it right.
I glance around just to make sure I haven’t been noticed, and when I’m sure I haven’t, I do a lady’s trot into the crowds and make it out of the station without even a little hiccup. Perfection. Wouldn’t expect anything else from a perfect mare. I smirk at the Guards and stick my tongue out at them once I’m far enough away that they won’t see. I pause then, taking out my tiara from inside my coat and perching it wear it belongs on my head. It takes a couple of fine adjustments on my completely ruined mane to get right, but I manage.
That done, I figure it’s a good idea to find someplace to stash the coat for the day. I don’t want nor do I need to carry it around all day. It’s heavy, gross, and even if I look like a mess, I won’t go so low as to look like some dumb bum on the side of the street. Besides, the whole city isn’t as drafty as the platform. Part of me wants to head back up to the nice and classy streets I know well enough, but yesterday keeps intruding in my head until I decide that’s a bad idea. Unfortunately, I don’t think the other peasant parts of Baltimare are any better an idea. I’m stuck. Great. I end up just staring off into space trying to figure out the best place to go when I realize the building I’m staring at. It’s that tasteless Hayburger place with the boiler nook. That’s right next to the train station.
It’s not really much of a decision to make. I think back to what it looked like in there, and I don’t remember it being full of trash or other gross stuff. I control my hooves wanting to dash over as fast as they can, settling for a small trot. It’s a pretty good spot, and I have to thank my good eyesight for being able to see it in the first place. Good traits like that are just in royal blood. I can’t squeeze in with the coat on, so I swish it off and throw it before following more gracefully. Now that I’m here, it’s an even better spot, really. I crumple the coat up next to the biggest boiler, and I’m certain that whatever happens today, I’ll have a warm makeshift blanket at least.
But that still leaves me with what to do while I wait for the train station to post tomorrow’s arrivals and departures. I know for a fact that there won’t be a train coming from Ponyville just one day after one left for our tiny backwater town (I can’t stand it how the Apple family keeps us from becoming a bigger place by owning so much of the land). Which means that my best hopes will be tomorrow’s times. Of course, since train stations are run by stupid ponies, they wait until nighttime to show those to everypony. I sit on the opposite side of the boiler I’ve stuffed the coat against to give it some thought. I’m not going to get breakfast again, I’m pretty sure, but I definitely need to eat. And eat someplace that’s not Hayburger. Ugh, just thinking about having to put that icky stuff in my mouth again makes me want to vomit.
But food costs money, which I don’t have on me at all. I refuse to beg or ask for any. It’s below me and any other self-respecting royal mare in the world. I mean, the whole point of having a lot of money isn’t so you can go off buying nice, classy things. It’s a nice perk, but really, the best part is being the one other ponies have to beg from. They don’t like it, but it shows them just how beneath us they are without us having to do a single thing. I don’t even want to think about groveling like that. Momma would never forgive me, and I’d be the laughing stock of everypony in school for the rest of my life.
Pick-pocketing’s even worse. No money is better than having to take somepony elses’. For one, it’s probably all just a bunch of nicked and scratched low value bits. And second, the only money I think that’s worth having anyway is my own. It’s not grimy work wages like everypony else has but nice, shiny, gold bits that come from just being as fantastic as a royal mare should be. Unfortunately… I growl. Of all the times to be thinking about my things, I don’t have any and need them a whole lot. I bang my head against the back of the boiler and immediately regret it, rubbing where I hit it. It’s gonna bruise for sure, which means I won’t be able to sleep on my back for a while.
Whatever. Since I refuse to stoop below my status, I’m going to have to rely on the one skill Silver and I taught ourselves one summer forever ago. I sit up and nod to make sure the coat is still in it’s place and won’t blow away, then wiggle out from inside the half-alley. Normally, it would be stupid to think I could pull something like this off in Ponyville, but Baltimare is definitely a bigger place than Ponyville. Even if it’s not strictly a lemonade stand, fillies and colts are always finding sickly adorable ways to try to sell something useless. The trick is to know how to hijack it for yourself, like me and Silver did to the Cutie Mark Crusaders way back.
I have to be careful though since I don’t know these dingy streets and buildings well at all. It’s for reasons like this that I don’t listen to Daddy or Miss Cheerilee. They’re boring and annoying, of course, but nothing they say is ever useful at all. I have to leave my brain open and ready to remember things like street names (Baltimare has some the dumbest street names ever) and landmarks. Really, having to remember stuff like that for a mare like me is just as stupid as anything the other ponies older than me try to say, and I’ll just forget it as soon as I can, but at least I was smart enough to ignore them so I have the room to remember this stuff right now.
But it doesn’t seem like any of the fillies and colts in Baltimare are like the dorks in Ponyville at all. I can’t find a single stand or hoof-drawn sign directing ponies to a stand. There aren’t even signs that the ponies here have even tried to do something like that. No wonder this city is so gross, and all of the classy ponies are afraid of the peasants. They’re all lazy idiots who’d rather beg than actually work for mares like me. I’m in a real huff now. I haven’t found a single place to hijack money from, I’m hungry, and my mane probably looks like it’s been through a hurricane. Come to think of it now, it’s probably a good thing there aren’t any stands. The way I look right now, I’d be lucky if got anypony to come hoof over their bits to me.
As hungry and tired as I’m getting, I know better than to stop walking and memorizing streets. It’s keeping me occupied even if it’s not getting me anywhere. So at least, even if I am sore, tired, and starving, I’m not letting myself think about that stuff. Idly, I think it might be a good idea to try looking for random junk ponies have left in the streets and hoping to luck out on something I can sell to some shop or something, but then I remember I’m walking around and having to breathe the same air as the peasants. They don’t have stuff like that.
Like I said though, I’m lucky, and as I’m searching briefly for dropped and ignored valuables, the sun sparkles on the one valuable I know better than any other. I’m so excited, I dive into the shuffling masses so nopony else can get a chance to grab it. “Hey! Watch it kid!” gets shouted more than once, and other peasants just yell at me like I’m dumb or something. They should look in the mirror. I make it to the glittering piece on the ground and come up with a bit. It’s not brilliant (duh, it’s been in the street) but it’s not fake like what I guess a lot of these ponies use. I flip it over a couple times. It’s not the lowest value bit out there, but definitely not like what Daddy and I use. It’s progress though, and I eagerly look around the street around it for more bits.
I don’t find any, but I do see why that one was all alone in the road in the first place. Maybe I am, or maybe the ponies in Baltimare are just weird and have places like this all over, but I think I’ve wound up in the town square. It’s wide open and paved with bricks, kinda like the one in Canterlot, but not with all the mosaics and jewels. Families are everywhere, and I grind my teeth at the sound of screaming foals. Why can’t their dumb parents keep their stupid mouths shut? It’s annoying to everypony everywhere, no matter who you are. What’s even worse, they’re almost drowning out a cute little jazz group playing beside the fountain.
I don’t know why musicians don’t get more attention. Momma tried to teach me how to play the piano when I was little, but I never could get a hoof around how to do it. And if there’s one thing a royal pony should really be interested in, it’s playing an instrument, enjoying concerts, or both. Peasant’s just don’t get it, or they’d be quiet for the jazz group. I tear my attention away from them even though I don’t want to. Watching and listening to them play would be such a relief. It would almost feel like I’m back home at an outdoor concert. Instead I have to concentrate on why I found this square in the first place.
The fountain isn’t big or dramatic, but it is one of those kinds that ponies like throwing their bits into. It’s the perfect opportunity. There’s no clocktower around and my watch ran off with my bags with Daddy, so I don’t know the exact time, but I’m guessing it must be around lunch time since there are more ponies leaving than coming to the fountain. I mean, there are really shallow parts of the fountain where foals can stand in it and play around, so it’s not like I’ll have to actually jump in to get a decent amount of bits. I lean my head over the edge of the normal side of the fountain just to check it’ll be worth it at all, and I grin at all the bits on the bottom. Sure the waves on the surface make it look like there’s more, but even then I won’t have any trouble at all getting some without anypony noticing.
I start to stroll around the fountain to the area I can step into, and my confidence at how easy this was going to be starts to disappear. It doesn’t make any sense at all, but by the time I’ve gotten to where all the screaming foals are there’s not a single bit within easy reach. Dorks. They’ve probably taken them all or nopony throws any in on this side because they don’t want the foals to take them. I should leave right then. No way I’m getting any bits over here. But I end up going back over to where I’d first looked into the water anyway. I peer over the edge again, and all those bits in the water start laughing at me in the voices of the Cutie Mark Crusaders. I scowl and reach my hoof down just to see how close I can get to the water from here. I’m able to smack the water, but instead of making me feel any better or making the laughing stop, I can only imagine it more clearly. My stomach’s actively growling at me now too. It’s no help at all.
I can swim. It’s not that deep. And it’s also the dumbest idea I’ve ever had in my head. I growl audibly and whip away from the fountain, determinedly marching off. I’ll get some bits for food. I know I will. I’ve already got… what, just one. It’ll probably only pay for one whoppin’ hay fry. I scream in pure frustration and throw the bit at the cobblestone for good measure. It bounces and rolls and bounces again, but instead of ending up on the other side of the street where I can pick it up and get on with my search… it rolls down a sewer grate. I’m nowhere near it, but somehow I can hear every small clinking sound it makes on its way down. I start shaking, from what I don’t know, and I just lose all control. I turn around and break into a full run.
Nopony does or says anything to me until I’m right at the edge of the fountain, but by the time I hear a shout, I’m already in the air. And whatever else happens I miss. My body hits the water, and it’s just enough for me to go completely under. It’s also freezing cold. I can’t even think about the bits for a few seconds, popping back to the surface and already shivering and breathing heavily like a madpony. But I notice that more and more of the ponies in the square are looking at me, and I dive back under the water to escape. My hooves find what bits I can hold and run with, and I haul myself out of the water to hushed, disapproving whispers. It really was a stupid, stupid colt-ish thing to do. Water is dripping off me like I’ve gotten out of the shower with no drying towel, my mane is sticking to the sides of my face and the back of my neck, and my hooves are slippery on the cobblestone.
I take a few moments to try to take full breaths past how violently I’m shivering, and before anypony can do anything, I take off. I run like I’ve never run before. All I want is to get away, to be warm. I want to eat something and not have to look anypony in the face ever again. And what’s worse, I don’t even know why. I’m not in a panic. I just know that I want those things. I decide not to think about it. I must have run faster than I thought I could, because I’m inside the boiler alley before I even register squeezing in. I throw the bits on the ground with a clatter. I don’t want to look at them either. I grab my coat and wrap myself up in it and huddle in the smallest corner of the alley. I’m shivering still, but the warmth of the coat and boilers keeps it from being as bad as it was running here.
I just don’t think until I stop shaking. I let the humming of the boilers take up all the space in my head. It’s only when my mane’s beginning to perk back up, and my chest isn’t heaving from being so cold and running so hard that I hop over to the bits (I keep the coat wrapped around me tight with one hoof). I sort them by values for some reason, and it’s not nearly as much as I thought it would be. Maybe I can get double the amount of food I got last night. I don’t even care how much I hate Hayburger. I take off my tiara and stow it behind a boiler to keep it safe so that I don’t have to wear it and be recognized in the Hayburger. I toss my coat over my head and walk in to get the food. The mare at the counter has a different voice, but I still avoid looking at her.
The sun’s beginning to set when I go back outside and return to my boilers. I scarf down the food as much as to keep from having to really eat it as because of how hungry I am. I ball up the trash and kick it away. I try to curl up and sleep, but I end up rocking back and forth with the oily coat hanging off my back. My mane’s still not completely dry. The rocking eventually takes whatever else I have left in energy, and I just sort of fall over and close my eyes. It’s too early to got to sleep, but I don’t care. I don’t want to look at this stupid city anymore anyway.