Grinding; sparks fly in every direction.
He lifts the narrow silver barrel to his shielded eyes. He is satisfied with his work, so he remounts the part onto the rifle. He places it off to the side and he picks another gun from the table.
“Is there something I can help with?” Rarity speaks in a bored tone, leaning her head onto the table.
“That bottle,” he lifts the welder's mask to reveal his dark monkey face, red hair at the edges.
Her horn goes aglow and she lifts the water bottle swiftly to his lips. He looks at the mare with an angry glare and snatches the grimy plastic bottle out of her grip. He tips it back and only a single mouthful dispenses. He swallows and turns the thing to the side, letting the remaining drops hit the dust “Need more water,” he tosses the bottle and she narrowly seizes it “Now.”
She looks up to the monkey, but he has already brought the mask down and is picking through a revolver's innards. The bottle clatters hollowly against the sand and she walks off without saying a word.
Rarity spends her time on the wall holding the town together, watching the high hills blow great waves of red sand. Yes, it was a windy day.
Applejack extended her leg, aligning the metal bone with that foreleg. It fit a little bit less than snuggly. Hoon had passed her a strange ceremonial mask an hour before. One made of bone and leather. A lamb skull with leather straps so somepony could secure it against their head. She secured the last strap and looked at herself in the mirror. Kind of cool.
She attempted to use the metal bone to lift a hairbrush handle. A pair of pinching claws with another piece of plastic wrapping farther out, the plastic cord was not secured to the bone. She lifted the brush awkwardly and it shakily hung from the pincher. To trigger the grabber and the cord, she had to flex a small muscle and from there some strange clicking machinations worked inside the device. The result was the cord pulling and the pincers(albeit by a different muscle) closing.
She loosened the straps on both of them, and fells onto a bed. She landed in her natural standing position and rolled her shoulder blades, proceeding to peer over the whole of her vehicle. A black beetle was painted onto the hood of the sand tan vehicle.
Night came over the land slowly, an inching into the gloom it was. The moon was full and the clouds did nothing to hide it. And so though it was night, everything was clear to see, even by the later hours of midnight.
Applejack watched the moon and sat next to Rarity’s door. Applejack had hoped Rarity would notice her, but as a minute turned to ten, she realized her waiting was in vain. But something else transfixed the earth mare. The glowing moon.
She flitted her eyes and could not resist resting them. She slumped and let the sand comfort her. She fell asleep.
Time played a scene for her mind.
She runs her hoof along the droplets on the farm’s fence. The water clings to her hoof and does not let go “Strange,” she turned over to the well-stylized mare “you notice stuff like this at the boutique?”
“Oh, heavens, yes,” she cried “I was just about to drink some tea and the tea didn’t fall from the cup!” she chuckled.
“Where’s Twilight?”
“She told me something was urgent in Canterlot and left yesterday,” Rarity put hoof under chin “I wonder…,”
“Me too,” Applejack wiped her hoof onto the wooden post and turned around “She leave Spike?”
“She didn’t mention.” Rarity cocked her head shyly.
“Better check.”
It was a quiet morning in the town square and the two traveled with ease. But internally they knew something was amiss. Fog rolled through the town. In heaps. They passed through one of the clouds and found the alicorn’s treehouse. The wood was bleached and gnarled. They both were taken aback and asked each others opinion.
They entered carefully. Inside Spike talked to himself and scorned the world as he brushed a few books. The books were yellow with age, dusty and Spike was struggling to clean them. He wiped off a book and stood triumphantly over the tome. To his dismay; the dust began to mount into a thin layer. The bits appearing from no obvious place.
He noticed the pair of mares and dove for their feet “Help me.” he said in a meager squeak.
“Spike, I don’t imagine you know what is happening?” Rarity spoke to the kneeled dragon.
“No, I was cleaning and poof! Everything was dirty again,” he made an explosion with his hands.
“Can you move aside?” Applejack asked impatiently.
“Yeah, of course.” he retreated back to a small wooden step ladder and sat, hand over his purple forehead.
“Back at the farm, water’s acting weird, at Rarity’s too.” Applejack looked out of the windows at the flowing masses of cloud. Falling over and under each other.
“Yes, as Applejack said, my tea does not seem like it wants to behave.”
“That’s weird, maybe check our faucet?” asked the dragon.
“Sounds like an idea.”
The two approached the threshold between the library and the stairs up to Twilight’s formal home. Rarity realized something and turned around “Applejack.” she said in a gentle tone just loud enough for the other mare to hear.
Applejack was still in the clouds until Rarity said her name. She looked into Rarity's eyes and they exchanged each other’s trance-like gazes. The eye contact only broke once Applejack blinked. Until then they were both absorbing every morsel of color in each other’s eyes. Applejack gulped and chuckled. Rarity chuckled and turned around. Applejack followed closely behind.
The faucet’s hot nob was twisted by a scaly hand. The thing shook and cracked the ceramic sink. A few creatures ducked behind the walls just out of the bathroom. The faucet popped into the air and almost struck the ceiling, but in its stead, a stream of water flowed into the air. Leaking just in front of the sink.
“Jeez,” Applejack muttered from the doorway.
“Maybe we should clean it up,” said Spike.
“Spike, I think we need to send a letter to Twilight first.” Rarity looked over to the dragon.
“Ok, let me get her quill.”
“Ah’ll clean this up,” said Applejack taking a towel from a rack in the bathroom closet “Twilight, have ah mop around?”
“Sorry, broke it last week. She was...,uh, never mind” Spike called from the other room.
Applejack’s towel was minuscule compared to the amount of water leaking. She threw it down, but it was instantly soaked. She closed in on the hissing, flooding hole and tried to find a way to cover it or stop it. Realizing there was little to be done she walked back to find Rarity and Spike.
She stepped out into Twilight’s study and no pony was to be seen, she peeked around to the stairs, no pony. After a few moments, an eerie hum radiated from all the floor boards. Several cracked and raised an inch. She watched this phenomenon in awe and called out for her two friends “What’s going on? Guys?”
There was no answer. The hum grew and the windows behind her cracked, Applejack jumped and nearly stumbled down the stairs. She sighed and walked back down to the first story of the Library.
The library was half in a white void, wooden planks disassembling and fading to match the white backdrop. Applejack could only take it at face value. She blinked a few times. A few books slid from a shelf that was no longer supported, into the void. It moved always closer.
She trotted up the stairs and at the top she noticed a steady stream of lamentations.They seemed to fall from the room on the top floor. Applejack couldn’t mistake their owner, it was Rarity. She ascended the stairs one step at a time. Something seemed to reverberate below the floor.
Discord materialized slowly on the landing before the final ascent. He leaned against the tree’s wall attempting a cool posture, he was failing for an unseen reason.
“Discord, you…” she gritted her teeth and pushed towards the draconequus.
“Halt.” he held his eagle forearm up and she placed her hooves down on the steps.
“Alright,” Applejack seemed to have little control over anything.
“Come closer and then be still.” he muttered glumly.
She walked onto the landing and gazed up into his eyes. He kneeled and pushed a finger through her hair, moving a stray golden strand back to it’s rightful place. He sighed, his voice cracking at the little exertion. The sad sounds of Rarity met his ear and he glared at Applejack “Forget me and be with her for your last moments,” he waved his hand away.
Applejack stepped up the final ascent and was in a different time. A time where the birds chirped and she wasn’t afraid of anything. Except for that pretty pony. The one crying her guts out in this attic. She watched for a moment in the distance. Rarity’s snout buried under her forelegs. Wetting and darkening the formerly pristine fur of her chest.
It was the apex of the tree where Rarity mourned. Applejack hated to see her friend reduced to nothing but a pile of sobs. She fought internally if she had the courage to say what she wanted. Something she wanted to say so bad. She convinced herself she was just pent up. No, no that’s not true. She won a war.
She walked quietly, every step causing her heart to beat faster. She finally rested on her hams and side-eyed the grief-stricken mare “Rarity?”
Rarity raised herself from the depths and looked into those emerald eyes, shining like the great jewels they were. She scooted clumsily up and under the mare’s foreleg. Rarity's fell onto Applejack’s coat and Applejack gulped “Rarity?”
The mare removed her head and leaned her quivering noggin against Applejack’s chest “Y-yes?” she choked out that depressed line. Applejack thought it was too much for her heart to handle and leaned back further. Running like a coward away from her chance.
Rarity fell back into her warm spot under Applejack’s arm. The both sat there for a few minutes. Applejack started to doze. The time between real thinking and just seeing her surroundings lengthened. Her attention was caught by a pale white blanching of the floorboards a few feet away, especially towards the stairs. She turned to her little seamstress and smiled. Rarity could not have known.
As the rest of the boards paled they made a little crackling sound. Rarity thought about lifting her head but was too comfortable against the beautiful mare, so she simply asked, “Is something wrong?”
Applejack said in the calmest, most caring tone she could imbue into her voice “No," she held her closer "everything is wonderful, and I-I…” she stammered a few times before reality flecked and bleached into nothing. Absence or the opposite ferociously consumed all. Like the sun’s white rays on a clear day.