Stories I Almost Wrote, #7

It's been over three years since I even thought about updating this, so I might as well bury it. Rest in peace, Royally Ruffled Feathers.

First, the notes. They're as jumbled and out of order as usual, but I tried to tidy up at least a little bit.

(Gilda wakes with a mild hangover, but ignores it as best she can when following BB to go deliver some bad news and drop off a small stack of important-looking letters somewhere. She meets Luna later that night?)

That morning, Lightning Dust swoops in to drop off a stack of letters, Blueblood gives her another, tersely gives a name and a location, she smirks and says "On it!" before taking the letters and bolting, Blueblood just chuckling with satisfaction. Gilda asks, he explains that the Wonderbolts, "those fools," threw Lightning away entirely rather than giving her basic instruction in safety. BB found her drowning her sorrows one day, heard her talking about how fast she was and why she got thrown out, and BB had a proposal; bring him (something) from Cherry Jubilee out in Dodge Junction in under a day and he'll give her a large sack of bits. She comes back in a few hours, BB offering a job doing that with the assurance that 'Royal Courier' may not carry the same praise as 'Wonderbolt,' but- she cut him off with "Where's my next target?" BB grins. "Shining Armor, Crystal Empire. Bring me the lineup for the Equestria games.")

He explains that with Lightning's propensity to fly as fast as she wants, he gets important articles delivered much faster than he would with ordinary couriers or the postal system. Nothing against it, but this is faster, he clarifies, and where the Wonderbolts discarded her, now she works for the highest office in the country, free to spend her downtime doing whatever she wants as long as it's not illegal and nopony gets hurt. She has never slacked off, never been late, and never not several hours ahead of the ETA for standard delivery.

(From this, Gilda starts to understand that ponies who work for the prince get some perks... but he still sounds kinda evil about it! She doesn't know yet, but it has nothing to do with his job, more to do maximizing efficiency, +wanting to give spurned ponies a chance where others wouldn't, kind of a recurring thing for him.)

HH's daughter is a red pegasus with yellow hair (normally spiky) tied back in a bun, studying medicine, named Phoenix Down.

Whispers heard about Blueblood being rumored to have a thing for pegasi, but she doesn't take the hint. Thinking Fleetfoot might hint that the rumors lean towards truth one of the times she's around.

Fleur catches her while eating, saying something to cause a hilarious spit-take or two as they discuss her trying to help/save Gilda from Blueblood's evil scheme, whatever it may be. "Neck-thing" referred to as a tuxedo collar and cummerbund?

(Next time she sees Fleur, Gilda may call her D'Liz, which she begrudgingly accepts)

Fleur was in the crowd when Gilda was hired, noticed Blueblood's evil grin and shouted that somepony had to help her. She was alone in seconds. Still, she catches Gilda at a high society party later, pointedly when BB isn't near her, and shares that the Bluebloods are known to go insane around the midpoint of their lives, likely as a price for being mortal yet weilding a fraction of Celestia's power. She points out that while BB is only around his mid-to-late twenties, his father is fairly senile already, that it usually starts at 35-50.

(The truth is that they lose The Job when the heir is of age, going 'crazy' by having fun now that they don't have to be 'evil' anymore. Blue comments that even if he studied all his life, the extra kick of his bloodline, while better than most unicorns, wouldn't really be a match for Twilight even before she was an alicorn.)

At one point, Gilda asks someone flat-out.

"Tell me straight, am I working for a bad guy here?" There weren't a lot of things she thought about being in her life, but hench-hen definitely wasn't one of them.

(She regrets to inform that she can't give a straight answer. The time he supposedly usurped the throne was shared in the
media as a bit of a misunderstanding, so technically the youngest Blueblood had never committed any sort of illegal act. Still...)

She meets Luna before the night is done, who gets it in her head that Gilda is 'cool', tries to learn more modern behaviors from her, a few times? Hilarity ensues? At first, Luna carefully inspects her Nephew's new-hire, her face terrifyingly neutral the entire time. (She's even scarier than Celestia!!) This image of her fades when they start hanging out together, Luna being a bit crazier when trying to emulate the modern idea of 'cool', both to not be seen as frightening as much and to 1-up Celestia. "Eat it and weep, Sister, for I am among the 'cool' ponies!" Celestia does her best not to laugh, conceding defeat with an impish smile.

(When she wakes up that morning, catches a repair-pony looking for something to fix. Cue running gag about her not smashing stuff, wondering if she should to make him/her quit it)

(While talking directly to him, refers to him as 'Blood'? Perhaps later when she's a bit more accustomed to things/knows he isn't just screwing with her. He notices it has shock value when the first time she uses it, in public, turns heads. She forgot about the bloody carpet incident*, but part of him sees a fiendish delight in reminding ponies of that moment)

*Blueblood cut himself on Rarity's glass slippers the night of the Gala, more on that later.

Having met Luna, she asks about Nightmare Moon coming back, BB remarks that Luna needed a lot of counseling, that Grab's victim act made him sick. (too much woobieness on Luna already, yes, but it only seems realistic)

A day at work (Passing bad news, making decisions that hurt somepony somewhere, whatever good that does being overlooked by the injured parties entirely) that leads to the start of the plan to sew chaos in Canterlot. Sitting somewhat bored in his office before they head out, a pony delivers some letters, very quickly summarizing each one, and is rewarded with a bag of bits. BB explains that he's stopped personally responding to some addresses, instead paying somepony else five bits per envelope to read them for him so he knows what he needs to do to minimize contact with that person (it's not always ponies) and still get the job done. Gilda can't decide if that's lazy or ingenious.

She notices that he acts snooty out and about, but not towards her. Hating him in silence until she realizes that, she asks, BB getting a deer-in-headlights kind of look until he comes up with saying that she, by virtue of working for him, isn't some commoner, of course. She still smells a rat.

(He notes that moment in the diary*)

*BB has a diary that Gilda ends up reading. Periodically.

She meets Celestia again later. Gilda perpetually awkward around the princesses.

"Y-yea, y'know, basking. Sun's real... warm, and stuff. Good job on that."

Celestia smiled just slightly wider than usual. "Why, thank you!"

(She decides that Gilda is just darling!)

One of those he visits is Lyra, gushing about the possible discoveries of a long-dead species that all pony technology may be inspired by. Celestia gave explicit orders to crush her efforts, (She spoke quietly, her face sorrowful. "Crush it into dust, Nephew. Leave no hope.") hinting that it's dark magic pony-kind isn't ready for. (Nuclear power. Celestia is NOT comfortable with what she saw) This holds no plot relevance, just spooky filler.

In his office, he sorts through paperwork that the princesses can't or don't, summarizing it for them and awaiting orders from Celestia.

(Fleur talks to Gilda often, trying to do so in secret, generally acting out a spy movie in which there is no elaborate conspiracy, Gilda even letting her know that nothing is up when she's read his diary. Fleur gets crazier and crazier in her attempt to stop the non-existant evil plan, utterly baffled by the arbitrary things she sees BB doing, thinking it means he's snapping? This all sounds a little convoluted, but, sweet chaos?

(Maybe in the end, seeing how insane BB has gotten, she relates the only thing to change since before he started acting that way: Gilda. She guesses that Gilda was the mastermind all along, possibly even coming up with a detailed breakdown of how she did it all and why, Gilda waiting until the end to ask "Okay, so?"

"...What?"

"So, like, what if I did? I didn't, and you're freakin' bonkers for coming up with all that, but even if I did, you got a plan to do anything about it at this stage?"
(She doesn't, as by this point, BB's big party plan is already in full-swing, but as she starts to make a dramatic declaration, she's carried off by a band of ponies who got into the silliness? Gilda salutes and moves on with things.)

She ponders how she thought working for a rich pony like Cash would have made her a big shot and doesn't want to press her luck with Blueblood. Moreso with all those scared whispers she's picking up...

When Blueblood isn't looking, she catches a mouse in an alley or something, pops it into her mouth, and immediately spits it out, the foul taste not at all what she remembered from the last time she ate something living.

She finds his diary (possibly while he's being boring in his office all day, her having riddled out that he doesn't leave until around dinner time and nobody goes into BB's chambers?), reading days 1-13 while trying to get some kind of info on him after learning he's read a file on her and their 'commoner' talk from earlier.

(A few days have passed, Gilda is bored and BB has nothing for her to do, attending to business alone that day. He sends her to Fancy Pants with a letter, suggesting that he might make for entertaining company, if nothing else. Fancy takes the latter, smiles, and happily invites her along to do stuff. Music ensues) His cutie mark represents a love of classy things, "And what," he pondered rhetorically, "could be classier, than a winning smile?" By that definition, his face held the utmost class.

Fancy calls Blueblood "something of a gloomy fellow, but not a bad pony at heart.", Gilda scoffing that he seems pretty damn peppy to her. Confusion and exchanging of looks follows. Someone may laugh uproariously, thinking it was a joke, Fancy nodding once before moving on.

Fancy singing parody of Smile, Smile, Smile at some point, based on persistance? He's failed to make great sums of bits many times, but always wants to try, try, try!

This might've been the last pony parody I ever wrote. Or the second. Not sure it matters either way.

My name is Fan-cy Pants, -Morning!- and I am here to say, -How do you do?-
I've got some bus-i-ness here, and wish you a good da-hah-ha-ay!
It does-n't mat-ter now, -I say!- what has been lost be-fore, -Smashing!-
'cause each new day is a new chance, to ev-en out the score!

If there's just a chance I'll Try, Try, Try! -Every time!-
Regardless of past failures, we must strive! -And we'll thrive!-
'Cause all I rea-lly ask is Try, Try, Try!
And we'll see a bright-er day!

I like to see you win! -Good show!-
I love to see you dream! -Well done!-
From making profound works of art,
To the great-est machines! -Capitol!-

But should you be discouraged,
and your hopes come crash-ing down,
I'd work as hard to do my best,
to turn ev'ry prob-lem a-round!

Because one must always Try, Try, Try! -Like you do!-
On this, I hope we are see-ing eye-to-eye!
Just show me that you will Try, Try, Try!
And the way is oh-so clear!

It's true, things don't always go as planned...
But I say there, chin-up!
And Fancy will be there to show you when your best is e-nough!

There's one thing that makes me chipper,
and makes the whole world shine briiiight!
And that's when I take a step up and give it a Tryyyy!

I rea-lly am so hap-py,
e-v-ery time I see,
the strength of will, to get one's fill,
it's just so spec-ial to me!

'Cause it nev-er hurts to Try, Try, Try! -Ev'ry day!-
Indeed, what I tell you now is not a--- lie! -Oh, I say!-
You'll be so happy when you Try, Try, Try!
And one day you'll have your way!

So I truly urge you, Try, Try, Try-y!
You'll nev-er know, 'til you give a go,
All you need to do is Try, Try, Try-y,
it's the simple truth, you know!

So I truly urge you, Try, Try, Try-y!
You'll nev-er know 'til you give a go,
All you need to do is Try, Try, Try-y,
it's the simple truth, you know!

Yes, just take it from me-e!
When you try you are bound to fly-y!
To be as hap-py as can beeee...
Try-y, Try-y, Try-y, Try-y, Try-y, Tryyyyyyyy!

Give it a Tryyyy!

Give it a Try!

Fancy's song later translates to a lesson to Blueblood, delivered by Gilda once she's internalized it, about how he shouldn't give up on making real friends, possibly starting with her. At the end of the day, she asks Fancy what was on the letter, suspecting it was 'keep my bodyguard amused', and he says it was about the sweets shop he'd invested in over in Manehattan not doing well and likely needing to shut down. Gilda says he might try out near Appaloosa, as she remembers the Buffalo liked chocolate. Fancy says he'll bear that in mind. (It later turns out to do quite well! Not fantastic, but more than enough to get by)

She gives his diary another look, reading days 16-23. It's around now that she wants a better look into his head, being that he's generally cryptic and vague in conversation.

(Rarity walks into his office, indignant about being called all the way out to Canterlot, "not that I dislike the locale, but..." (she rambles, not letting him get a word in and asks why he would act the way he did in the first place)

He quickly turned to face her, scowling. "Because I was trying to impress you, dammit!"

She stared back in silence for several moments. "W...What?"

"I behaved as much like one of my position as I could, and got exactly the opposite reaction as I'd hoped." Rarity's face contorted in confusion, almost sickened to consider the ideal behavior of a charming prince anything like what she endured that night, but he cut her off with an upheld hoof. "Oh, I see now that you expected something very different, but I had been so sure I figured out just how you would have wanted me to act..." He sighed, voice betraying no small amount of resigned bitterness. "You wanted a Perfect Prince Charming, correct? A chivalrous stallion to see to your every need, breathing sweet nothings into your ear and offering roses the whole night?"

Having indeed hoped for something to that effect, she nodded lightly, unable to entirely suppress a blush.

He cocked his head a little, an eyebrow raised. "Then answer me this, Miss Rarity, what part of that could you not get from any common colt?"

She visibly puzzled for several seconds. "I... I don't understand."

Blueblood rolled his eyes as a wineglass refilled. "Any farmpony can be 'chivalrous', Miss Rarity. I intended to emulate the epitome of a Canterlot royal, which doesn't include such, if you'll pardon my word choice, ridiculous cliches as opening doors for ladies and paying for their meals. When I heard about how one of the Elements of Harmony wanted to be wed to Celestia's nephew, it only made sense to think she wouldn't have been fooled by some storybook act, but anticipated the genuine article; a pony that lives and breathes a sense of regal superiority." He floated the glass to his lips, adding an addendum before taking a long drink. "And it seems either way, I failed."

For perhaps the first time she'd thought back to The Gala in detail, Rarity wasn't the least bit angry, just confused and perhaps a little sad, maybe even guilty. She spoke softly. "You really wanted to woo me by behaving as you thought I would like?"

He set the emptied glass down, frowning. "I was sure you were testing me on several occasions. Pointing out the rose? Giving it to you alongside a shallow compliment would have been far too predictable. I was conflicted when it came to the doors, but decided that the upper-most nobility would have anypony do such things for them, even heroes of the realm. In reflection, I guess the reverse could have worked as well. I'll admit I panicked somewhat when I tasted the fritter, and tried to save face by making it clear that I would only ingest the most cultured of delicacies." He chuckled. "I should have known, really, of course any friend of Celestia's protege would be the humble sort."

Now she felt guilty.

(She asks why, then, does he have such an overwhelmingly positive image further from Canterlot? "Pardon my Prench, but 'The prince is kind, charming, and single' or 'the prince is a bitter, hateful flankhole.' Which do you think better sells papers to starry-eyed fillies, Miss Rarity?"

She scowled, feeling cheated by what she'd seen in all those magazines. "Point. Taken."

(At some point they grab something telekinetically at the same time, Rarity recoiling with a hint of a blush. When he gives her an odd look, she defends that it's considered an intimate action. He looks surprised, explaining that while yes, that is something of a faux pas, it's a very old, very minor one hardly anypony takes into account anymore. She must have studied extensively for her time among high society ponies to know about that... Things like that reinforce his plan all the more.)

(Reluctant admittance that she was essentially hoping to marry into princesshood, shallow and foalish itself, though she is just a little defensive of what she feels is a perfectly understandable fantasy)

While Gilda is with Fancy Pants, Blueblood met with Rarity to begin his scheme. He coerces Rarity to bring the other Element Bearers to his side in causing mayhem by threatening to make Hay-waiian shirts a big fashion trend. (Fancy Pants listens to Blueblood for clothing advice) "You twisted fiend!!" She demands he never wear those tacky shirts in his life, EVER, before agreeing. He got the idea from friends of his goofball parents (who, The Job passed to their son, no longer have to be cruel in the public eye) that stopped by for a visit: Rarity's parents.
"Wait, never ever? Not even when I'm old and nopony cares what I-"
"Never. In. Your. Life." The look in her eyes left no room for argument.
"Hm. You drive a hard bargain, Miss Rarity." Well, kind of. They were stupid-looking shirts, but a classic favorite of aged citizens exploring the world's tourist traps.

They talk about The Gala, he really was trying to be nice, acting as 'princely' as possible to impress Rarity. "Of course I was 'snobbish', Miss Rarity, any farmhoof can be chivalrous, only the highest of the elite insist others serve them at all times!" Failed horribly, but tried. This only embitters him further.

Someone makes mention of the palace being haunted.

Rarity heads back to Ponyville, Blue and Gilda spend the day in town with no business to attend to. Heartwarmy moment: Gilda eventually asks about why Blue made fun of Cash's suit, Blue says "Because I know what looks good, and that was atrocious." She doubts this.

She refers to him as "Dude". "dude" was a new word for "dandy" – an extremely well-dressed male, a man who paid particular importance to how he appeared. He is impressed she knows this, even though she very much doesn't. (Diary entry about not underestimating her intelligence again) He uses the title of "Dude" for it's shock value among the upper crust whenever possible after.

Lyra, sneaking around, doesn't plan to murder Blue in revenge for her denied research project, but maybe play a prank or something. Then she sees Gilda, who she remembers. "...Scuh-reeeeeew that! Vengeance really isn't healthy anyway."

They spend the day with him showing off his talent for aesthetics, Gilda quietly asking, the most roundabout possible way, what he'd change about her, to which he replies "Nothing." The raw, primal look suits her best, he thinks, pretty much any clothing, even of a warrior bent, would only paint her as something she isn't. Cue wing-hug that he isn't sure doesn't mean something different for griffons.
At some point in that day, she asks if he's ever pulled a prank, messed with someone for fun. He recounts a blind date he'd been tricked into in which he gets a little drunk (bored with the mare, who's clearly trying too hard, but there's nothing he can do like he did with Rarity) and starts saying increasingly offensive things, worded just a little different from actual compliments, looking over her shoulder the whole time. "She's onto you, stop looking directly at the cue-cards." (There's no one there, but he acts like he's just too drunk not to follow advice of friends she isn't seeing in an obvious way) Gilda has a good laugh at this.

Something happens. Need space between touchy moment and diary-reading. Talk with BB's nanny, who tells of what a cheerful colt he used to be?

Gilda only describes her in appearance, never having asked the name.

"Oh, Mrs, (Funnyname) stopped by? That's certainly odd."

She raised an eyebrow. "Why's that?"

Walking away, he called over his shoulder, voice painfully casual. "She's been dead for six years."

She doesn't sleep well that night, (picturing old, dead pony maids with no eyes or teeth and blood dripping from their mouths standing over the bed, waiting until she peeks out from under the covers) perhaps this is where Luna suggests that, if she's up anyway, they hit the town together? Her in disguise as she follows a slightly tired Gilda for late night shenanigans)

"Ordinarily," said a voice that terrified Gilda even more, "I must wait until my subjects slumber before intervening in their nightmares. Perhaps griffons do things differently?"

And here's the diary! I was most likely going to space this out between other chapters, because it's kind of a lot to swallow in one go.

Day 1:

At the advice of undisclosed parties, I have been asked to keep a journal of my thoughts, a catalogue of my psychological failings and abnormalities, a diary. I immediately dismissed the notion, of course, but as the undisclosed party is a pony I love very mu one of few sapient life forms I don't utterly despise, the advice will be heeded.

As soon as I have something worth writing down.

-Vladimir

Day 12:

...Nothing of interest has been happening, of course I haven't been writing in this damn thing! What does she expect, that I'll fill page after page with the only constant I can think of, an undying hatred for my fellow Elite?

As you are a book, Diary, I should note that that last word is meant in the utmost sarcasm. Sarcasm translates very poorly to text if one does not know how to decorate their words, which I learned to do so perfectly. That was sarcasm too. That's enough for now.

-Vladimir

(finding it in his room, she suspects Vladimir is the name of the changeling, or something, that took the real Blueblood's place some time ago. Then she remembers his full name.)

Day 13:

Speak of Discord, eh Diary? I spend day after day honestly making a little bit of effort to find something worth noting in my dull, dreary, senseless, yet necessary little life to no avail, and what should happen but a monster from X years ago popping up to devour all the magic of the world for himself? Princess Twilight and the rest took care of it, of course, but it was exciting while it lasted.

-Vladimir

(either Gilda gets bored or something calls her away, or she hears hoofsteps outside the door, hides until they leave, and takes that as her cue to get out)

Day 16:

Promised I would keep a journal, but there are problems with that. You might have already guessed this, Diary, for one reason or another, but I am, in fact, a Very Important Pony. Whether or not the precise reason for my significance is publicly known by the time this is read, it's possible that some future archaeologist will piece together something of importance with the fact of my role in life. That role is the reason I hold my tongue, so to speak, there are things the common pony should not know, things I am often well aware of and just as helpless to do anything about.

One of them is the true meaning of my title, Prince Blueblood. Would you have guessed it's the 'Blueblood' part that really matters?

I cannot explain why, and so this journal holds no further purpose.

Day 22:

I had a talk with the pony that insisted writing out my thoughts and feelings would be therapeutic. It started with the same question she asked quite some time ago, "Anything interesting for the journal lately?" It is asked with a glint in her eye, as if waiting for me to uncover some hidden fountain of mirth and wonder through the mere act of putting my life to paper. I explained the difficulty of doing that and keeping my task perfectly concealed. This seemed to give her pause for thought.

She actually apologized. Have you ever heard of a smith apologizing to their hammer? A chef apologizing to the ladle they stir scalding hot soup with? Such were my thoughts when She apologized to me.

My name is Prince Vladimir Blueblood, and my secret goes thus: My family lives in the castle beside Her Royal Highness Princess Celestia for the express purpose of playing the villain in leadership, handling the issues that a Perfect Princess would be diminished by, doing the governmental dirty work. I've shut down businesses, laid ponies off, dismissed heart-felt requests and some admittedly senseless ones by subjects both rich and poor, and settled matters that didn't leave either side happy or smelling like roses, and ponies hate me for it. Princess Luna tells me this was once her task. If so, I have little difficulty imagining the origins of Nightmare Moon.

---

"Damn," she uttered, "thought working for Cash was a bitch." No wonder Blueblood was usually such a stiff! Being the scapegoat for everything HAD to get on your nerves after a while.

Your whole life is a long while, too.

Very long while...

Realizing she had drifted off, Gilda shook her head, not sure how much time had passed, and kept reading.

---

If the populace were to understand that nearly every ill fate that befalls them is at their idyllic ruler's hooves, it could be anarchy. Ponies like having something to blame and a sympathetic shoulder to cry on, a good guy and a bad guy. I, as the heir to the Blueblood legacy, play the part of 'bad guy', following Her orders to achieve the best possible results. Telling a pony who's just hit bankruptcy that things could be worse in ways they might not dare imagine rarely cushions the blow, but I tell you now that Celestia's plans, while often clandestine and manipulative, hold the best interest of nearly all living things at heart. It helps that I don't have to care if anypony ever understands that.

This is why I have seen myself as a tool for Celestia's ends, a role I have adhered to not only because she was the kindly aunt that played with me and kept me company as a colt, but because I've grown to understand the difficulty she faces as the head of Equestria.

How many times has the nation teetered on the edge of utter annihilation, only for some under-hooved thinking and perhaps dumb luck on her part (Such as finding the magical prodigy that would become Princess Twilight, though I can think of a few ways that might have been orchestrated. You probably know all about her already, Future Archaeologist) to save the day? I've seen the face she wears beneath the mask of Princess Celestia of Equestria, and it's one she'll hide for the rest of her days.

Forever.

And she apologized to me for my lot? I, who live in decadence at her very own castle? It's not as though my family and I aren't compensated, Diary, it's the whole reason for the 'Prince' in my title. We do the dirty work, she pays us handsomely, and the world keeps turning. I think the sight of me hurts her sometimes, that she'd rather I behave like more like my self-absorbed, gleefully ignorant peers than the way I do now. Today, she asked me to write what I feel, nevermind my role. Well, fine! If my beloved aunt wants me to extract some kind of levity from this thing, if there's a chance she'll stop holding in tears every time we talk at length, even if it risks a centuries-held secret, then I'll damn well try!

You know something about knowing something nopony else knows? You can never rub it in their faces, but dropping all the crytpic, out-of-context clues in the world is apparently fair game, and it's fun, sometimes! Foalish, yes, but damned if I don't feel some tiny sense of that smug superiority I've perfected projecting all these years, "I know something you don't, Ha, Ha, Ha!!"

I think it at them, "I'm aware of things, beware my power!" It's like, if I were to break the silence and reveal what I highly suspected was coming, (has that Windigo thing happened yet for you, Future Archaeologist? Don't answer, you're talking to a book.) I could well and truly mess with some heads, drive ponies insane perhaps just by telling them the truth, like I'd be Pre-Fluttershy Discord with nothing but words. It might be a sick little fantasy, but when I hear ponies talking about how 'in the know' they are, it's a damned enjoyable one.

Writing this, I'm actually shaking. Fun! I'll be damned, being able to record one's true feelings is damn good fun! Until next time, Diary.

-Prince Vladimir Blueblood

Day 23:

You know what I actually kind of like about this job? The looks on the faces of those who've bought or bullied their way to where they are when they're told "No."

"No, the statue of your father will not be replacing the one of the centuries-dead soldier nopony remembers in the park."

"No, that proposal to bulldoze and pave the lands in and around Appaloosa with buffallo-pulled equipment did not sit well with the Appaloosans. Nor the Buffalo Tribe."

"No, your attempt to kiss the princesses' flanks by erecting massive statues of all four of their heads on the side of the mountain will not be cleared for development."

"No, I don't care if you include one of me in it as well."

That kind of thing. Granted, not every pony I refuse is badly in need of being taken down a notch, but the ones that are? Ha!

-Prince Vladimir Blueblood

(After this, reading his diary becomes Gilda's guilty pleasure. She notes that he says 'Damn' a lot when speaking plainly.)

Day 24:

Nothing really happened today, but damned if I'm not committed to this now. Instead, I'll talk about the weather. Partly cloudy. I used to stare at clouds as a colt, trying to make up pictures, wondering if the pegasi carved them to look like trumpets, chairs, knives, flowers, et cetera on purpose. Sometimes I still do that, though ponies give me weird looks, whispering behind their hooves when I stare off into space in public. I don't care, today I saw a donut, which is really interesting for a cloud.

-Prince Vladimir Blueblood

Day 25:

Fantastic news today, Diary! Well, possibly, I'd rather not get ahead of myself, but so far, I'm feeling strangely optimistic. I was passing along another refusal to erect another... what was it? The moment I deliver my lightly-rehearsed speeches for these things, I forget them entirely. Something inane, I'm sure, and what should I see but my target having some trouble with one of his employees?

Watching a griffon dismantle a sturdy sky chariot, if one only made for travel, with just her bare talons and the floor is a sight to behold.

---

Oh, Gilda thought with a faint hint of anxiety, here we go...

---

As much fun as her impromptu resignation had been to watch, I tried moving right along with my business and leaving. Is it karma of sorts that, silently enjoying the destructive spectacle, I was roped into it? As there were no guards around yet, I was, as the highest-ranking authority figure, required to do something about the law being broken. I'm no Captain of the Guard, but I am instructed in the basics of violent spells and crowd-control magic, should it ever be needed. It wasn't.

Long story short, the situation was settled with me getting a brand new bodyguard that doesn't seem cowed in the least by my status! This griffon, this Gilda, didn't give a flying feather about whom she was speaking to when she spoke her mind, and it was GLORIOUS!

The obese pony I was there to see that day, Gilda's employer at the time, apparently hired her to pull his chariot around, flying him between towns. I have no use for such a thing, so instead I used the first thing I witnessed about the mare ...is 'chick' the proper term? Hen? I'll have to look into that. The first thing I witnessed was her strength, so I asked her to be my bodyguard in the hopes that it wouldn't be veering too far from her skill set that she would accept.

I was banking on her new-found joblessness meaning she'd have nowhere to go, at least not paying at the level she would have been used to under one of the Canterlot Elite, and given her response to my proposal, I'd say it was a good guess. This, of course, means it's just as likely that I'll wake up to find she's tried and possibly succeeded in stealing several priceless antiques from the palace, but it's a risk I'm willing to take for a plainly honest voice around here.

---

She stopped reading at that, her head spinning. Blueblood picked her up not because she was going to be part of some sinister plan, not because he was going to chain her up in a basement somewhere, not because he was worried about getting pulverized for that snooty trot thing he does, but because he wanted her to yell at people?

She looked to her left.

Then to her right.

"...Cool?"

Not even being expected to beat anything up suited her fine. This job was looking cushier all the time, give or take (something that happened by the time she's read this)... Then again, a chance to vent some frustration wouldn't go amiss. Still, she felt a little less tense now, stress that had been building up in the back of her head since she caught that guard's look back at the gazebos finally fading away. She didn't need to read any further to set her mind at ease...

She flipped to the next page.

---

I do so look forward to hearing what she has to say about life in Canterlot.

-Prince Vladimir Blueblood

P.S. Just remembered there's a party taking place tomorrow evening. I think I'll introduce my newest associate. Canterlot Elite, prepare thyself!

Day 26: (the party, he complains about not really getting to watch Gilda be Gilda, but will comment on what little he gets to witness, when that's written)*

*The party was written out, but I never came back to this.

Day 27: (Something Gilda says triggers his new point of view)

You know something, Diary? I really hate my colleagues. You did know that, I've written it before, but I feel it now perhaps more than ever. Hate. Cold, seething hate. This is never going to stop, all the preening, all the double-talk, all the hollow, moon-banished posturing for nothing of value. Not everypony in Canterlot is like that, you know? There are plenty of those who work simple jobs, go home to families, and live comparitively happy lives. This day, I've had an epiphany; I don't hate my fellow upper crust, not even Upper Crust, I hate their behavior.

I watch them, the newcomers go through the motions, dispense hollow, insincere compliments in the hopes of advancement into higher social circles, those that were once in their horseshoes permitting the ones that stroke their egos adequately to remain while others are up and abandoned, be it in the form of not inviting them to further events or pretending not to recognize them anymore, possibly mocking their overpriced attire for not being just the right brand of overpriced attire as well.

I understand Miss Rarity's lines are selling as well as ever, wonder if she knows what inanity she's feeding with her work?

Do you know why they act this way, Diary? They're conditioned to, it's practically their job to be shallow, conceited, and sickeningly sycophantic if they want to be accepted into the glorified mess that is the most sophisticated, most refined group of ponies in the world.

That last bit was sarcasm. I should probably just start speaking more plainly, like Gilda. Then again, she can be prone to sarcastic remarks herself. Perhaps there's an art to this?

Anyway, they want to fit in, so they wear a mask, not so different from my own. I wear a visage of sneering indifference and cold callousness for the benefit of an ignorant nation, they wear theirs to be accepted by others in masks older than theirs, so is anypony really 'bad' here? I don't think so. We play the cards we're dealt, wear the masks we have to to get through our lives, but there's a big difference between my mask and theirs; they don't have to act so damned pretentious. At least, not for any practical reason. I do what I do as a job, an obligation, they do what they do because it's what they have to do to fit in with Canterlot ponies.

Did I say that already? Well if so, I'm saying it again! They act this way because they think they have to, because it's just what everypony does! What if that could be changed? What if, for some reason, Canterlot's status quo changed? They'd have to change to match it, would they not? They would! They'd either conform to the new order or drop the facade, declare their own opinions on the matter, and spare not another thought for those that would ask them to align with something they wholeheartedly disagree with!

Probably.

I have a plan, Diary, a plan to change Canterlot forever, if I'm lucky.

-Prince Vladi

Ooh, I just thought of how to mark sarcasm in a book, quotation marks! Obvious in hindsight, so I'm 'so' sure you knew that already. (Heehee!)

Today was a good day.

-Blueblood

P.S. I'm tired of writing out my full name, it's not like the pages are getting ripped out every time I start a new entry, is it?

---

Gilda smirked, picturing the frustrated future archaeologists pulling their manes out if his writing that last part jinxed the diary somehow, all the pages with his name on them unreadable. Just to drive them nuts.

Gilda goes to Celestia about what got Blue so bummed out, if hesitantly. Celestia visibly bristles at first, asking in a cold tone what she means, but Gilda doesn't back down, (Hell with it, I didn't get this far by playing it safe.) wanting to know why he had to play patsy for her. She gives in, ("Do you really want to know?" She asked in a voice that made Gilda feel like she was stomping on a kitten's face by bringing it up, but there was something in her eyes that said she badly wanted to tell someone about it. It was almost like how she felt-like a feeling Gilda had absolutely nothing to do with.) telling Gilda that up until now, living with being hated didn't matter to the Blueblood family because they always found love, if not always deep and lasting, early in their lives. Vladimir, however, did not, and grew bitter and resentful instead. That seems to have changed since Gilda's arrival, though. "Maybe all he needed was a friend?"

(Eventually, Gilda asks Raven about BB being asexual, she says it's kind of a long story. Gilda says she's not pressed for time.
"Well, uh..." She shrugged, turning to a pair of maids dusting a suit of armor. "Hit it!"
The lights went out, a single spotlight shining above a tiny stage with a tiny, puppet Blueblood and one that kinda looked like Floor Dealies as music started to play.

And here, I'm almost sure, is the first non-pony parody I ever wrote! Sung by Raven as maids put on a little puppet show.

The first princess was a model, she never could see,
what it was that our dear young prince had wanted her to be.
Never could one say she wasn't fairest in the land,
her mane and coat so perfectly groomed, down to the last strand.

The lights flickered out for a second, the tone of the puppet play shifting to slightly harsher music.

Appearances were not the first thing on Prince's mind,
he'd meant to find a mare to love each and every day.
When she'd stop for cameras that he'd leave behind,
lonely Prince would shake his head and then just walk away.

And things brightened up again.

The second princess was a singer, the Pony of Pop,
her booming, vibrant melodies, they never could be stopped.
She sang her racy symphonies to all in Canterlot,
abuzz was all Equestria with shaking of plots.

Dark again.

Music, it was her passion, constantly it arose,
day and night the prince endured assaults of booming sound.
Fed up with the noise she made, Prince Blueblood finally chose,
to search on shores less obnoxious where his love may be found.

Bright.

The third princess was a designer, or so she would claim,
the truth was that her own ideas would not bring her fame.
Approached by our hopeful prince, she developed a plan,
to live her life in luxury with wealth in her command.

Dark.

Try as he might to overlook it, our prince, he could see,
that gold and jewels were the first and foremost in her heart.
What she truly wanted, it had naught to do with he,
so hollow, cold, and loveless, soon their dalliance broke apart.

Gilda was getting annoyed.

And as this passed, our young prince, heard of a mare,
a most radiant beauty, fair and good and smart.
Invited to the Gala, she would soon be there,
Rumor said, she-e-e sought his heart!

The fourth princess was the Bearer of Generosity,
she had come anticipating classic chivalry.
Unfortunately, from these olden notions he abstained,
until not a shred of hope in this last princess remained.
A farmer's flying funnel cake,
in a split-second, a mistake,
and from then on, she would know him only as Royal Pain.

(the puppet show they're putting on shifts to Blueblood standing alone on a messy, red mark, surrounded by broken, glass hearts.

Finally our dear young prince had given up the dream,
for now he knew that love, for him, was just a fairytale.

(and then, the bloody spectacle he makes with Rarity's slipper leaving him effectively friendless, he gives up, resigned to being alone for the rest of his life)

Cadence later reveals that this might have been her fault, and is THRILLED Gilda is there to remedy it. (After chasing Blueblood around swinging at him with a broom ("I'LL SWAT YOU GOOD, YOU FILTHY BUG!!") because she assumes his uncharacteristic upbeatness (for him, anyway) means it's happened again and she has to swat a changeling)

"Y-you're... Just friends? I, uh... Yeeeess, just friends. Gotcha." *Wink!*)

(In later entries, he starts signing "Me," "BB," "Myself," and then sillier names like "King of the Dudes," "The Guy Who Talked to Princess Twilight While Wearing a Vampire Cape," and "Arch-Bishop of the Marshmallows" based on what he did that day, noting that Trixie (after he visits her) urged fancy titles whenever possible.

Day ??

I met an old acquaintance today. I feel... Odd. Like, like I've dropped something I have no intention of picking up again. She agreed to help me in my plans, at something of a bargain. I never really liked Hay-waiian shirts anyway.

-Me

Some time after hanging out with Luna, she explains that she was supposed to help her figure out what 'cool' meant in this day and age, and brings up sunglasses. Blueblood says he wore them on and off for about a week once, stopping entirely when Celestia saw him in them and, for a split second, looked at him as though she thought she'd done something wrong.

"Do you know the look, when a parent is disappointed with their child and that child realizes it?"

She might have, but she opted to let him go on.

"That was the look she gave me that day, only in reverse. I wasn't making any particular face at the time, but when she saw me wearing sunglasses, her own expression changed for a few, scant seconds. She looked at me with confusion and maybe even hurt, as though she had done something wrong. I didn't understand why until we talked later that day; she thought the sun was too bright or something." He chuckled, remembering how relieved his solar aunt had been that it was just a misunderstanding on her part, and how she'd laughed about the whole thing for a few days afterward. "I was just trying a new look at the time, but I'm glad it turned out like it did. Every time I grow weary with my tasks or annoyed with Celestia, I think back to that moment, and I know that she cares."

There was a long silence as Gilda stared at the prince, ending with him vigorously shaking his head. "Ah, well," he said, a light blush forming on his face, "that certainly took a 'sappy' turn. I'm faintly surprised you didn't interrupt."

She shrugged. "Yea, I was just thinking about doin' the same thing at night, see if it ticks off Luna the same way, y'know?"

"W-what?"

Gilda nodded once, smirking. "Sunglasses at night. Like, if wearin' 'em during the day makes Celestia think it's too bright, maybe Luna'd think it meant the night wasn't dark enough?"

There was another brief period of quiet as Blueblood contemplated such a thing before bursting out laughing, Gilda immediately joining in.

(rolling on the floor, he might half-seriously suggest adding that to the plan?)

(At some point, she meets Discord, who shares that BB creeps him out. He shares the tale of the time he did that thing with Smelly-Butt The Powerless.

---

They saw BB in a bar, just drinking peacefully, not paying the horrific magical-absorbtion any mind. He just drank, not even looking at them. Tirek demanded to know what made him so calm. Blueblood turned to them, his expression one of dull disinterest.

"Does it matter? Do what you're going to do and get out, I have drinking to do."

"FOOLISH PONY," roared Smelly-Butt, "you would hope to drown out my domination of your world with mere liquor?!"

Blueblood snorted in derision. "Your domination? Please, I'm doing this to soften the blow of sorting out our military ranking system. Do you know what having four princesses has done to that hierarchy in the event of a war? Never mind where the likes of the Elements of Harmony and the Crystal Heart fit in, the new regiment from the Crystal Empire, and the displacement of our former guard captain."

I decided to interject. "We ran into him on the way here, actually. You'll be pleased to know he's about as good at his job as ever."

"Thank you for the progress report, Discord."

That he said it in that monotone thing he does made it hard to tell if he was playing along or not. Then Archbishop of the Magicless Jerk-holes may have rambled about how it didn't matter anymore and drained your boss of his magic, but that freaky fellow did not care. I watched him drain a LOT of ponies, and they all got this grey, tired look after, barely able to stand up. Blue turned grey too, but after the magic-drain thing was done, he just shook it off, picked up his drink, and got back to it. He looked more annoyed about having to get the next round himself after the bartender started lying on the floor.

---

"I had my own magic drained, little griffon, and I can tell you that it is not fun. I've never felt lower in my long, long, long, long, long-"

"Ahem."

Discord's mouth started twitching rapidly while emitting a high-pitched noise. Gilda took that to mean he was going in fast-forward. "-long, long life. That having that happen to him didn't bother Blueblood at all, is the eighth creepiest thing I've ever seen." He scratched his head somewhat vacantly. "It's like the guy was already hollow."

(Gilda notes that BB didn't even remark on getting drained in the diary entry)

-Maybe with Spitfire's regular passes at him, Gilda is the one that gets her to stop by offhandedly saying something about being tied down, Spitfire shaking her head and saying that article about her was all lies, that she has no interest in bondage, and that the thought of being immobilized like that is terrifying, that she's heard it was more of a unicorn thing (what with the horn-fastened inhibitors) and-... (she turns pale, immediately rethinking what bedding the prince might actually mean.)

-He doesn't particularly care for birthdays, which Gilda finds a bit of a bummer. Partly because she's a child at heart and appreciates a day for being selfish, though this might not actually come up in the story.

Delivered in villainous motive rant: After the chaos at the Gala, Blueblood stepped on broken glass, (Rarity's slipper) swore LOUDLY while accidentally getting royal blood all over the royal carpet, (those recounting it say it would make harlots blush and hardened pirates stunned silent, "That if he were present, King Sombra would have stopped what he was doing and taken notes!" "Whoever that is, you're exaggerating." "Well, that's how the legend goes.") and pretty much no one wanted to be seen with him afterward, the few he could charitably describe as friends not wanting the stigma brushing off on them. Blueblood remained friendless even after the event was forgotten, utterly sick of his fellow Elites. "The blood loss was nothing to learning who my friends were... Nopony." Bar Fancy Pants, of course. "He's just so damned chipper!" (+Fancy never seems bothered when a business venture of his plunges, just shakes off the dust and hopes to do better next time instead of gossiping about Blue in flimsy revenge, which Blue can't help admiring)

It comes up that Blueblood usually manages the nation's wealth. Celestia does NOT have a head for numbers, leaving teaching math to other ponies.

Rose-pen was a gift from Shining Armor, a joke on how Blueblood is married to his work. Actually rather liking the pen, he keeps and uses it from then on. Cadence finds this hysterical, if a little sad. The ink even smells of roses, Blueblood remarking that sometimes it's actually fun to be ostentatious. (Maybe this is while SA and Cadence visit?)

Cadence was adopted by the Bluebloods in this story, already an Alicorn, but not partaking of The Job.

It was briefly thought that BB and Octavia might have had feelings for one another, but they weren't one of those bickering couples, they just really didn't like eachother. The relationship ended when they grew tired of arguing and agreed to just be apathetic acquaintances. It turns out that the whole city gossiping about her and Blueblood actually helped her career, getting her hired more than the concert hall BB shut down (reason she first disliked him) due to low attendance ever would have. She realized this later, after they'd stopped fighting, but doesn't want to be the one to say it. Maybe Gilda likes her music and they become something like friends? If so, Blue might invite Vinyl Scratch to something just as much to annoy Octavia as his peers.
Helping BB and Octy get along ("I, hate, that stallion... But I owe him my career. I wish I could say that I got where I am entirely on my own, or even with help from friends, but... AAARGH!!" She punched a wall. "Mine is a big name in classical music, for now at least, and it got big because of my association, even an entirely negative one, with him. I don't know if I could live without ever needing to work again, but I know I can live comfortably for the rest of my days.") paves the way for her own repaired relationship with Rainbow, Twilight possibly remarking on it.

(maybe this little arc ends with Octy and Vinyl going to live in Ponyville, both still planning to take gigs here every so often, but otherwise retiring for a quieter life? If only they knew, but should work because I think episode 100 took place after this story's start. Make AN about problems of updating old stories.

While working for Cash, he once brought her to a thing where Filthy Rich and Diamond Tiara were present. The issue of whether she's treated differently in something for being a griffon comes up and Diamond says "Duh," stunning the room into silence. Some of the upper crust present, however, nod their heads in agreement.

Blueblood, near the peak of his madness, wants to invite the Element bearers to make a mes-have fun in a Canterlot party. Somepony insists that he not, is ignored, and Fleur offers Gilda a lot of money, (she's paid well for modelling and Fancy lavishes her with gifts when love is enough) saying it's in her best interest to stop Blueblood's plan to cause another Gala. Celestia feigns ignorance, having done exactly that herself, Luna doesn't really understand the problem. He might secretly invite the Changelings somehow.

Blue (while wearing a ridiculous Dracula (Count Dragallop? Trotula?) cape) eventually boasts to Twilight (who knows about his role now) that she can't 'reform' him, she and her friends have only ever succeeded in that when the 'villain' comes to Ponyville (Nightmare Moon, Trixie, Discord) and he's on his home turf. Twilight angrily shakes a hoof at the accursed evildoer. Neither of them are serious. (She does offer to talk to him about his job, if he ever wants to. He laughs and says it's quite under control, so she doesn't press him)

She quietly apologizes for the time she got mad at him for not directing more funds to the royal library when he could have, saying it was selfish of her and that she didn't know about his job. He shrugs, saying he learned a long time ago to utterly disregard disapproval of his decisions.

"Oh," she said, grinning with a hint of mischief, "there's one more thing I think I can help with..." Her horn lit up for a few seconds. "All done!"

He brushed a hoof along his upper lip in response to an odd, fuzzy sensation to find he now had a long, black moustache. He chuckled. "You are too kind, madame."

(He thinks it's kind of a pity that, some day soon enough, she'll feel the harsher side of power and responsiblity.)

(Gilda sees it, staring expressionless)

He beamed. "How do I look?"

"...Get that stupid thing off your face. "

"Aww..." Shrugging, he peeled the fake follicles off like a band-aid. "Well, I guess it does clash with my mane."

His plan is to cause chaos, but in a way that shows the upper crust just how stupid they are, how senseless it is to judge on fashion trends and irrelevant behavior, how idiotic they are to follow one who does things they don't want to do in the hopes of being liked for it.

Part of each Element Bearer:

Rarity to help bring the others to him.

Twilight to show her (lack of) dancing skill? He'll get some other ponies to watch her and dance like she does, somehow. Maybe telling those this is how a princess dances? When somepony hesitantly objects, he'll raise his snout when asking if they'd dare imply her dancing is anything less than the best, most elegant set of movements they've ever beheld. They'll follow, knowing they're doing something silly and unpracticed, but doing it anyway.

Rainbow to ...? (Maybe Blueblood smirks, shrugs, and says he has nothing for her, inviting her to enjoy her stay in the city. He's read Gilda's file and knows their history, not going to try to force them to make up, but see if it happens on it's own) +wants Gilda to do Junior Speedsters chant with her again, if only as a show of good faith. As they talk, Rainbow uses a big word, Gilda pointing it out. Rainbow first proudly declares her intelligence, then sheepishly admits it's from hanging around Twilight, a pony who uses those kinds of words all the time. "You too, huh?" They laugh, holding conversation in the most sophisticated terms they know with ear-to-ear grins. (technically, they're still competing, so friendship intact) Rarity may walk in on this, slowly backing back out.

Pinkie to help him feed those at the big party something decadent, but absurd, like chocolate bananas full of ice cream and sprinkles made of candied fruit, using the fanciest terms he can think of to dress up the dish.

Applejack to make 'common carnival fare' popular in Canterlot, with Blue's direct help. (might disguise himself as a salespony, maybe making Gilda join in for Flim-Flam parody song) When convincing her, he apologizes profusely for not giving her food a chance to win her over. Once she's left the room, Gilda, there the whole time, says

"You were lying through your teeth, you manipulative dirtbag."

He grinned mischeviously, eyes twinkling. "I know."

Fluttershy to get Discord to attend, doing whatever he wishes, within constraints? +make up with Gilda. Gilda asks her opinion on a dress she had to wear, cue Suited For Success homage.

Discord, when asked, will be, in his own words, "Locked in a fierce battle of wills with Twilight's new crystal birdhouse." Trying to convince the castle that he should have his own chair by doing good, friendly things. When asked to help the scheme, he may or may not be challenging the castle to a goof-off. ("Um... H-how will this convince it to give you a chair...?" "A what now?") When Rainbow points out that he could just pop up his own chair, his own CASTLE, he replies "Now where's the fun in that?"

While cut back to Ponyville for some of this, Lyra gets home, complains to Bon-bon about her denied plans, Discord overhears, and, being friendly, offers to show her. Later, Lyra comes back looking years older, but gently hugs Bon-Bon, telling her she thinks everything is ok.

Maybe Cash Grab redeems himself a bit, helping one of those charities he brushed off? Or lowering his standards for who he loans to. "I... I've been thinking, since last we met. It's easy to dismiss everyone that doesn't have what I have as being beneath me, but... Maybe, all they need is a chance? If I were to be a little less constrictive in my business, perhaps they'd have it. As much as it pains me to risk permanently parting with great sums of money..." He sighed. "I have to give them a chance, even if it means taking one myself, if you see what I mean."
(May also come up that he realized none of his 'friends' moved to help him, making him think "They just stood there, didn't even make an effort to call the guards. Even with all my riches, all my influence, is that all I'm really worth?"

(As he's talking to Gilda, she might smile a bit, slug him on the arm (he complains) and tell him to keep up the good work or something. His talk about taking chances might be what urges her to take one with loving liking really not minding hanging around Blueblood)

Gilda as a closet history buff? Could take an interest in antiques in the palace, at some point cleaning off huge cobwebs left by a spider lord (Ananzi?) as a gift. Celestia (arachnophobe) is immensely relieved to have them gone, even if she doesn't show it.
(If Twily says anything about this, she jokingly comments "Well, I guess you might call me an egghead."
Gilda goes quiet, very hesitantly saying that being an egghead might mean something different than what she's thinking in griffon culture...
Twilight gets very red, stammering in indecision before deciding she doesn't not want to know, but she'll look it up later okay bye!

Her full name on file: Grizelda Gore-wing? She wants to stay in Equestria because they're weak here, back home she's a runt, everywhere else would probably be the same. Being near ponies makes her feel strong, or at least not worthless.

Blue hires Trixe for hamminess lessons, starts acting Dracula-cape crazy afterwards.

"You've got quite the reputation, Miss Lulamoon."

"Why thank y-"

"Historically, most don't live to tell about meeting an Ursa Minor, but I suppose you were lucky."

Her smile vanished. "Oh, that..."

"And later, you ruled over Dimondia for a short span?"*

She chuckled. "W-well, something like that."

"You once assisted the Manehattan Police Department in bringing down a notorious jewel thief, one Rough Diamond?"*

The smile made a hesitant return. "I had some help with that one, but yes."

"And I think you were seen among those defending Ponyville the time dark spirits from the moon attacked, or something?"*

She facehoofed. "That, was nuts."

"Indeed. And despite all of that, you're still catching flak for the Alicorn Amulet incident?"

He felt the tiniest stab of guilt as she shrunk backward. "I-I, uh..." She sighed, looking him in the eye with a hint of defiance. "Yes, some ponies haven't forgotten that particular thing I did, regardless of everything else. Your point?"

His tone remained sympathetic. "I can't undo your reputation, but what would you say if I offered you a chance to help me make history for-"

She interrupted him, not liking where this was going. "I'm not sure that's a good-"

"-for an exorbitant sum of bits." Not waiting for her answer, he levitated a large, bulging sack from behind his desk, dropping it at her hooves.

Trixie looked at the bag, then at him, then back at the bag, then back at him again. She grinned brightly. "What can a humble showpony do for you?"

One more piece of the plan secured, he smiled in kind. "I'll be needing the Great and Powerful Trixie, if it isn't too much trouble..."

*There was a time in which I followed the comic series. Around three years ago, I guess.

(From here. Ham. ALL OF THE HAM.) (he notes in the diary that he was generous with Trixie because he knows what it's like, doing bad things and not being recognized for whatever good you might do. That, and he liked her show the last time she performed in town, but forgot his wallet and felt like a tool for not giving her anything. Gilda walks in on them sword-fighting, Trixie dressed like a pirate and wielding a cutlass, him in a Dracula cape and wielding a rapier, so that he can perfect combat quips.

He makes it clear in the deal with Trixie that she won't be affiliated with him in any way once the plan starts, as she has enough bad press already without his rubbing off on her. She summarily agrees, ditching town once her part is done, as per his suggestion.

At some point, Gilda may read a diary entry about how he learned to enjoy setting up chaos like Celestia did at the gala, wishing he'd understood the purpose, the Ruffling of Feathers that comes with breaking Canterlot's status quo, that night. He schemes to put together a similar event, first by inviting the Element Bearers to something... She takes offense at being just another plaything to him, cue possible heart-to-heart about what they are to one another. I never did plan anything regarding him finding out she's been reading it.

Good place to reveal that before Gilda, he was resentful, but resigned. She gave him passion again, sparking the more lively, crazy, but overall harmless villainy he goes to.

She also learns that, while fully aware of it, he's going insane, and doesn't know whether to stop it now or ride the wave into history.

Part of the reason Celestia never steps in to stop him is because he IS acting kindof villainous, and as this is a sequel to Blueblood Takes Over Equestria, he points out that she can't stop him acting just in-character enough that the "I'm a bad guy" thing he does for HER benefit doesn't collapse, or there'll be hell to pay. Shocked, but fiercely proud of him for the show of cunning, she keeps her distance, watching with well-hidden amusement at best, surprised laughter at worst. Hating all the fancy pretense even more than he does, (even if she's learned to tune it out better) she's not too bothered by his antics anyway and cheerfully deflects questions about her nephew. "Oh, he's (Doing X, but worded to sound like X is a good thing)? That's wonderful!"

Celestia wants things less stuffy as well, at one point, about 400 years ago, give or take a few decades, she spent the entire day with a full beard and moustache, as colorful and flowing as her mane. Nopony commented on it, nopony pointed it out, they all tried their hardest to hold in laughter and questions, pretending nothing was weird about whatever the princess does. Funny as it kindof was, She was not happy. This might come up when Twilight talks to her about Blueblood's plan.

Gilda, opting to help Rainbow and the rest stop Blueblood (who left the scene cackling maniacally, or said he was just getting started with a crazy look in his eyes) before he really does something disastrously insane, spills the truth about his job to them. Cue Pinkie.

"Man... That's kind of a lousy job."

"It would explain a thing or two, Ah think."

Fluttershy was a little more audible than usual. "No wonder he usually looked so... sad."

Pinkie slid on the knees of her hind legs from across the room, forelegs extended in the air as she shout-sang. "AND I GUESS THAT'S WHY THEY CALL 'EM THE BLUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUE...bloods!" To her slight disappointment, nopony so much as batted an eye.

"So anyway, knowin' Blood, he'll either be in a tall, dark tower, or an underground fortress."

Rainbow raised an eyebrow. "Aren't all the towers in Canterlot brightly-colored? For like, exactly that reason?"

Twilight giggled. "I doubt that's the whole of it, but it should be the second one. We can probably find some kind of clue in his chambers."

"Secret tunnel switch, 3rd water fountain from the 2nd floor bathroom, 1st statue's horn." All turned to Pinkie, this time actually hoping for elaboration. She beamed. "I found it while I was tying the pasta balloons to things!"

"So what're we waitin' for? Let's find us a 'bad guy'!"

(Wandering banter: "So Ah been thinkin'. This here fort's underneath the castle, right?"

"Right."

"So it's an underground fort."

"Yes."

"But Canterlot's on a mountain. So we'd have to go a long way down to be what most ponies call underground. Where does that leave us, altitude-wise?"

"I, uh... Huh. I'll have to look that up later."

They meet surprisingly little resistance, somepony saying the expected traps, or at least some mooks when a trio of Shadowbolts show up. The group is in shock, but they quickly learn it's not recruitment they're here for this time. The three vanish into puffs of purple mist when stopped, many more appearing to attack the group as they proceed through the maze. Twilight eventually uses a spell to let them see through the walls when asked, saying she was having more fun working out an algorithm to figure out the patterns of-"JUST CAST IT ALREADY!!"

"Alright, alright, sheesh!"

It's revealed that Blueblood has an underground labyrinth-base, as his special talent lets him navigate it no problem in record time. Beside when the heroes catch up, if there's ever a reason for him to retreat? The one who built the place, former holder of the Villain role; Luna. They're both standing by a crystal ball, used to watch the group fight the Shadows Luna conjured. "They did well, Nephew, did they not?" They stand side by side, laughing maniacally in perfect unison. Luna may briefly forget, or not know at all, that villains don't pick up and cuddle their fellow 'evil-doers' at an odd moment. "Whyever not? Cuddles are delightful, for good ponies and bad!"

(Not sure if they opt to talk things out or try to take him and Luna on at the same time. As Luna is sane enough to not really fight, probably the first one)

END: Celestia, with Luna's urging, decides that times have changed and the "bad guy" role isn't needed anymore, ("How many executions has he carried out, Sister? When was the last time such a thing was necessary? Can even you recall?") Blueblood can just be himself and he'll always be a prince to her. Cue mandatory group hugs, enforced immediately.

Cue Blueblood and Gilda, neither wanting to get all gushy in the magic of friendship, singing about what awful people they both still are *wink!* with the parody Rotten to the Core in jest?

Everypony else just rolls their eyes with a smile.

Few ponies really change, despite the events of the tale and Blueblood's revelation to them, but Fancy Pants is seen in all manner of wacky hats every now and then, nopony saying a word. Cash Grab is seen in the most gaudy, golden, shiny suits/hats/sunglasses known to pony, not giving a damn what anypony has to say about it. This goes a decent way toward advertising his business. Somepony says something, their nose wrinkled, "Mr. Grab, that wardrobe is simply-" but he holds up a hoof, not even looking at them through his gold-colored shades. "Don't care, I feel like a million bits!"

(clicks a hoof on the floor, a pony he pays to carry a boombox around triggering a short parody, "I like Fat Flanks and I cannot lie, you other horses can't deny! When you go down to the place, where they're droppin' the bass, see a plot shakin' in your face, you get BUCKED...!" as he walks off?)

It's a very mild shame that, had I written this, it'd have ended just as I might have found this OC's true calling; cringe comedy.

---

Many centuries later...

---

Distant epilogue: Heavily imply Littlepip and the gang searching for a password or some important detail in Blueblood's tattered journal (from which she learns that he and his griffon girlfriend lived long, happy lives and she only agreed to put on a wedding dress and officially marry him 10 years into their relationship, him throwing around ideas about a different kind of servant class, one that served even poor ponies, free of charge. Machine ponies or something, maybe. There's a note that the one who helped fund the company starting the servant-bots is one "C.G.", who was happy to lend some bits) during a firefight with berserk robots, Pip getting increasingly frustrated before getting to the "it's not as if all the pages with my name on them are illegible, right?" and yelling out "AAARGH, I HATE THIS GUY!!"

That was the best word she could find.

Hate.

Now for the author's notes I had leftover:

(Chapter with Rarity talk) I'm pretty sure writing a story about Blueblood without touching on what happened with Rarity is some kind of pony felony, or at least a misdomener, like if you wrote about Gilda without talking about Rainbow Dash.

...Three guesses as to who might be important later.

(Trixie hired) Brace yourselves. Ham is coming.

Also, given my tendency to write about them way too much, it's probably for the best that this story takes place before Rainbow Rocks (only shortly before, but still), or I'd spend too much time thinking about how to include three particular trouble-makers into the story without it getting swallowed by them. Besides, I'm already doing that one elsewhere...

Speaking of trouble-makers, I'm afraid Suri Polomare won't be finding her way onto Blueblood's questionably-redeemed workforce, because being a liar and a thief that shoved her work onto her assistant doesn't really leave her with a desirable skillset.
Unless I can think of something...

And that, as they say, is that.

Comments

[Natedogg2006]

Wow, I know you know how to put a lot of words down, but honestly if you're going to write that much just to cancel a story it almost seems easier to finish the story. How long did you figure this story was going to be when you finished? I'm legitimately curious, you know how to keep a story interesting so if that's just your notes this story was going to be a beast.

[Eyeswirl the Weirded]

5045831
Thank you for your interest, and I'm sorry to disappoint, but I don't think this story was even halfway finished, and with all the other crud I'm sometimes working on, I don't think it'd be worth the effort to force myself to finish everything I drum up a few thousand words worth of notes for. I can't properly answer how long anything I haven't finished will be, because I've lost count of how many times I've thought "this'll just be a few paragraphs" or "this'll just be a chapter or two" and have it expand into something that, while I'm not dissatisfied with, was much bigger and longer than I'd ever anticipated.

Recognizing that tendency, it's obvious to me that I won't be fully fleshing out every idea I come up with, so it's better to just let go of the ones I've lost interest in. If RRF had been in the last few chapters by the time I determined I didn't want to write it anymore, I'd have wrapped it up over some length of time anyway, but as it was, only a few chapters in? I don't think it'd have been worth rushing through the entire rest of the story just to half-heartedly say "it's done."

I hope that makes sense.

[Natedogg2006]

5045854
Yeah honestly a rushed ending can be worse then just cancelling it. I had two manga series die at nearly the same time. One never finished so it still sits on my shelf taunting me. The other tried to wrap what was obviously going to be a deep and complex sorry up in one volume and gave no real closure. I sold it.
Makes sense to me, I was just curious. My writing style involves no notes so I have no idea how long something is going to end up. You have incredibly long stories so it's just interesting to think about what that one might have ended up being.