Rarity had set Sweetie Belle up on an old sewing machine from her attic which was, “functional, but quite tacky looking.” She was relieved to learn that Sweetie Belle did not need help with her project, nor did she need to work in the same room with her, nor, in fact, did she want to talk to her big sister at all. This meant that Rarity could happily return to her own work and leave Sweetie to whatever it was she needed a sewing machine for. A sisterly part of her wondered if she should ask Sweetie what she needed to sow a lot of black cloth together for, but a much larger creative drive within her told her not to press her luck, and, instead, to take the opportunity to work in peace. Little did she know how much influence she would have over Sweeties creation.
Sweetie put white thread to black cloth, listening to the empty hum of the machine. Her sister had taught her by example alone, and she knew how to sew what she was making by spending time with her at her weakest. When her sister was really breaking up, not just playing it up, she would make herself a black cloak. It was ritual for Rarity to perform, as well as a comfort for her to take wherever she went. She could hide away where it was dark and where nobody could see her. She only thought she was ever happy when she was beautiful, and it went the other way too: if she felt wrong in the inside, she must look wrong on the outside. Sweetie was not sold on that idea, but she did want the cloak. It was the first thing that came to mind that she knew she could get easily.
Outside the Carousel Boutique, Apple Bloom was waiting, somewhat nervously for her friend. She knew there was little chance that Sweetie Belle could sprout wings to chase Scootaloo across the sky (though she had seen something like it before), but having that filly out of her sights made her nervous all the same. She said she wanted to get something from her sister, but never said how long it would be to get it. She was about to dart in when a cloaked figure emerged from the shop, just Sweetie Belle’s size.
“What’s with the, uh, ‘get up,’ Sweetie?” Bloom asked hesitantly.
“Young fillies are supposed to play dress up, aren’t they? Don’t you think I look pretty in it?”
“Uh… yeah! I’d say it was your best work,” Sweetie really hadn’t made anything more impressive than that simple black cloak before that Apple Bloom could think of, so it wasn't a complete lie.
“Let’s go find something to do,” Sweetie directed them. She walked away without hesitating to see if Bloom was following her.
“Hey, wait up!” Bloom called out. Sweetie went surprisingly fast without tripping on her cloak, and Bloom could not get far enough ahead of her to look her in the eye. “Sweetie!” she called out, and the unicorn slowed down unsubstantially. They had made it to the market by this point and were surrounded by shoppers picking out their daily produce. Apple Bloom tried to hide the fact that she was catching her breath as she asked, “So, huh, what did you have in mind?”
“I’m pretty hot and thirsty, Apple Bloom,” Sweetie half-answered. “Do you mind getting me an apple cider from the stand?”
“Oh, sure!” Bloom replied. “Just a sec.” Upon making her way through the crowd to the stand, she noticed her big brother was the one running the stand today. “Hey, Big Mac! Fancy seein’ you here.” Her brother nodded. “Applejack out solving some friendship problem?”
“Yup,” her brother responded with cautious optimism.
Sometimes Apple Bloom thought her big brother really worried about AJ when she was out on trips with her friends. Applejack would never tell him what danger she was really in on a regular basis, but her brother was a masterful listener. He could get ponies like Rarity or Rainbow Dash to say more about themselves and their adventures than he needed to know what kind of trouble Applejack was getting herself into. Bloom could not relate, having no one smaller or more fragile than herself to worry about, but she felt bad for her doting brother all the same. “I’m sure she’s gonna be great. Anyways, you don’t mind me giving my friend one on the house, right?”
“Nope,” Mac said, absently.
“‘Nope’ as in you don’t mind, or ‘nope’ as in ‘don’t do it’?”
“Nope as in, ‘go ahead’” he said, motioning to the cider with his chin. Apple Bloom picked up the cider in her mouth and nodded a “thank you” to Mac. She went to where she last saw Sweetie Belle, but could not find her in the crowd. She looked about herself, unable to call out to her friend without dropping the beverage.
“Apple Bloom!” a shrill voice called from a spot near the hard candy stand. Apple Bloom followed the sound, discovering Pinkie Pie standing, with a balloon tied around her hoof. “Hey! Sweetie Belle told me you needed a balloon for something, so here you go!”
“What did she say the balloon was for?” Apple Bloom asked through the drink in her teeth.
“She didn’t say,” Pinkie said. “I even asked. She couldn’t say. Know why?” She looked one way, and then the other. “Cause it’s a secret.” “Secret” was said with special emphasis.
Apple Bloom was disappointed. “Where do you even get all the balloons you have, anyways?”
“That is also a secret,” she said, as if more for the crowd than for Apple Bloom herself. She then motioned toward the stand a few paces away with a shifty looking pony selling rubber horseshoes, bouncy balls, and tennis rackets. She then winked at Apple Bloom knowingly before immediately scanning back and forth to make sure only Apple Bloom saw. Convinced her secret was conveyed securely, she tied the balloon around Bloom’s hoof and slunk off and out of the crowd in the direction of Sugarcube Corner.
Apple Bloom looked a little like a lost filly at an amusement park, drink in muzzle, balloon in hoof, and a confused look on her face. She stayed there for a little while, unsure of what to do, before Sweetie finally returned. “Hey, Apple Bloom!” she greeted her casually. “Check out what I just bought from Mark Maker’s stand,” her friend held up a Lord Tirek mask. “Pretty lifelike, huh?”
In fact, it did look almost exactly like the centaur in his weaker, though still quite fearsome, form. The only thing that broke the illusion were four numerals on the left cheek, XI XV suggesting this was the fifteenth of the eleventh series made by Mark. Other than that one intended imperfection, the nose ring, the beard, even the eyes were Tirek to a tee. “Yeah!” Apple Bloom agreed, having carefully placed the cider on the ground. “It’s really good. So, are we putting on a play then? One about our sisters and their friends beating Tirek? That’ll really get ponies in the seats (and kill a lot of time, now that I think about it). Great idea, Sweetie Belle!”
“I actually had a different idea, but I think you’ll like this one too.” Without saying anything more, Sweetie used her magic to take the balloon off of Sweeties arm and to hold it in place as she filled it with sweet, bubbly cider. The contents of the bottle fit snuggly inside the capacity of the balloon, and Sweetie Belle, with a little cognitive effort, managed to tie it shut with magic. As soon as she had done so, she hid the unstable balloon under her cloak, and motioned for Apple Bloom to follow her.
Weaving through the crowd, they eventually came across the pair of ponies they least enjoyed encounters with: Diamond Tiara and Silver Spoon. The two were laughing, gasping, and gossiping to each other in their usual way. Sweetie was looking at them like a tiger watches a grazing antelope, and it made Apple Bloom nervous.
On some cue that only Sweetie herself knew, she levitated the balloon directly above the two young mares, shook it violently, and suddenly dropped it. The two were spooked at first by the pop it made, then confused by the bubbles they were wearing, and finally disgusted by how sticky it was. “Oh, gross, is this some kind of soda?” Silver Spoon responded in outrage. “This is totally going to stain our coats! Who did this?”
Their attention turned to Apple Bloom out of all the faces in the crowd. “Is this your families crummy, leftover apple cider?” Diamond Tiara asked, enraged. “Is this your idea of a joke?”
Apple Bloom was stunned, unable to say anything. She could see Sweetie plan come together, and now she saw the results. Sweetie, she thought, must have been taking revenge on her by fulfilling her original ambition of pranking DT and SS, while also throwing her under the bus. She looked over at Sweetie Belle, but she was already gone. Working up the courage to try and explain herself, she began. “I… I didn’t-”
“I did it!” called a voice from a nearby. Apple Bloom looked up to see Sweetie Belle, donning the Tirek mask, standing atop a stall looking down on the market dwellers. She was disguising her voice effectively, but it still sounded nothing like Lord Tirek.
It was easily enough to fool those out of the loop, though. Diamond Tiara ran and cried out, “He’s gonna take our cutie marks! I don’t want to be a blank flank!” Silver Spoon tried to follow her, but was swept up in the crowd of ponies running this way and that trying to avoid Tireks curse. It seems they easily forgot about the spilled cider, or assumed that it was somehow crucial to stealing cutie marks.
Soon, Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle were alone in the marketplace. Some of the stalls were tipped over, with broken porcelain vases, tangelos, and slowly unfurling rolls of wallpaper littering the streets. Like a majestic mountain goat, Sweetie lept down to the ground without hurting herself, and took of the mask to reveal her face, lit up with laughter. “Wow,” she said, “that worked way better than I expected! Everypony ran! I thought I would be lucky to spook DT and SS, but everypony else was spooked too!”
“Well, for one thing, I’m glad you showed up when you did,” Apple Bloom told her. “Were you trying to frame me for that little apple cider stunt?”
“At first, yeah, but then I found this mask and just couldn’t pass it up. Oh, brother, it was so good!”
“For another, I’ve never seen you get such a kick out of tormenting ponies.”
“Diamond and Silver are always tormenting ponies. I just gave them a little scare, is all.”
"Sweetie, you're not acting like yourself," AB commented.
"What is myself? I don't have an identity!" Sweetie protested.
"You don't have a cutie mark. That's not the same as not having an identity," AB contested.
"Who says!?" Sweetie snapped. "All my feelings are wrong and fake, why shouldn't I act however I want!"
"I already told ya I feel terrible for that!" AB argued back, "You can't make me feel worse by acting batty."
"I'm not acting 'batty'!"
"I've seen more bats than you, Sweetie Belle; I think I would know."
"Are you making fun of me?"
"No. Seriously! Ain't I ever showed you the bats we have around the farm? Hey, that sounds fun! Come on, let's head over to the orchard and you can torment some bats!”
“I guess we can do that…” Sweetie reluctantly followed Apple Bloom. Apple Bloom no less anxious than before, but thankful that she had, without much convincing, stopped Sweetie Belle from being a threat to the town. She wondered if Rainbow was having this much trouble with Scootaloo.